


Comes With Time

by ChloeWeird



Series: Timing is Everything [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Brief Child Endangerment, Dad Stiles, Domestic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Full Shift Werewolves, Happy Ending, It's okay though, M/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Parenthood, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, dad derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-24 10:52:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6151252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWeird/pseuds/ChloeWeird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four months ago, Stiles and Derek rescued a terrified young werewolf from an animal shelter, and now, they call him their son. But loving him may not be enough to help him heal from the trauma of months in captivity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This probably won't make much sense without having read the first one. 
> 
> Some notes on canon: Very vague. A lot of characters haven't been mentioned, but this isn't necessarily because they're dead. They're just absent, and haven't come up in the story yet. Most important things are that Scott is the alpha, Derek is not the alpha and Scott is married to Kira.

Stiles jolted awake to the sound of a loud wail and sat straight up, dislodging a cold, viciously pointed foot from his liver. He blinked rapidly to unstick the glue of sleep from his eyelids and looked down to the source of the noise. Teddy’s blanket had been pulled up over his head, and his hands peeked out over the top, fisted white in the material, his miniature fingernails slightly pointed at the tips, but not yet full-on claws.

Derek shook himself awake on the other side of Teddy, and for a moment, both of them were frozen in their sleepy fog. Another, louder shriek from between them broke them out of it. They gently tugged the blanket down and coaxed Teddy’s arms away from his face. It took them a minute to figure out that Teddy wasn’t awake yet. He was crying and cowering from something in his dreams.

“Ted? Buddy, wake up.” Stiles said, past a wad of grossness leftover from sleep. Teddy’s loud wails quieted to whimpers, but his eyelids didn’t crack. “Teddy, open your eyes now, it’s just a dream.”

Derek smoothed a sweaty lock of brown hair away from Teddy’s forehead, and his eyes snapped open, golden yellow lighting up the room. (Even more than it already was. Their bedroom wasn’t ever truly dark anymore since Teddy had started sleeping with them. The crescent moon nightlight cast everything in a dreamy blue glow.)

Fully conscious now, Teddy’s face crumpled and he let out a quiet sob. Tears streaked down his cheeks and Stiles and Derek immediately cuddled closer, fitting their arms around him, speaking low to soothe him. Stiles told him where he was, that his daddies were there and that they wouldn’t leave him, while Derek hummed a tune that was more growl than voice, something his father had sung to him when he was young.

When the sobs lessened and turned to soft hitching breaths, Stiles kissed his head and asked, as gently as he could, “Did you have a bad dream, Ted?”

Teddy’s words came and went. Some days, he’d be chatting up a storm in his high, warbly child’s voice. Other days, or sometimes even the same day, he wouldn’t be able to say a word. He’d have to rely on his parents to know what he needed and wanted. The baby sign books helped during these times, but they couldn’t consistently depend on Teddy even thinking to tell them he needed the toilet or a drink.

Right then, the words couldn’t have been farther away. Instead of answering, Teddy scrunched up his face and clapped his hands over his eyes. Derek and Stiles almost knocked skulls leaning in to settle him again, and Stiles sent an apologetic look over Teddy’s head for doing more harm than good. He decided to drop the subject entirely. It was obvious that Teddy had had a nightmare, so what did it matter what it was he was dreaming about? The last thing they needed was for Teddy to get so worked up that he shifted to full wolf.

In the safety of his daddies’ arms, Teddy calmed. His breathing evened out, with only the occasional catch. The late hour caught up with all of them and they settled in beside him, preparing to make the most of the few hours they had left until Teddy got them up again for the day.

Stiles was just hovering on the edge of sleep when a deep, sad sigh came from floor at the end of the bed. Stiles gave a sigh of his own and lifted his head to look. A huge blond head was resting his chin on the comforter, soulful brown eyes pleading in the dim light.

Stiles gave a quiet groan and bent his legs, clearing a space for Eddie. “Alright, fine. Come on up.”

The entire bed shook under Eddie’s clumsy feet, but the rocking motions didn’t wake Teddy. Once the dog settled with a happy exhale, Stiles ignored his cramped legs and his arm that was falling asleep, and slept like a rock with his family breathing deeply around him.

**

The clock on the wall read 8:24am. Stiles had been perched on the bathtub across from Teddy since 8:02am. Teddy sat on the toilet, his pants kicked to the floor, a faint smile on his face as they remained locked in a staredown for the ages. Both of them were stubborn. This had been proven again and again in the last four months as they performed this dance multiple times a day.

He knew Teddy must have to go pretty bad. It had been hours since they’d gone to bed and Stiles knew his son’s incredibly subtle potty dance very well. So, it wasn’t an issue of _needing_ to go. It was about _wanting_ to. Teddy had waged war on toilets from the day he’d got his human form back, and thanks to Derek and Stiles’ perseverance, he was losing that war. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t wage a battle every single time he got that familiar urge. He had no problem going up against a tree. Or a bush. A wall. A mailbox. Pretty much anywhere that wasn’t a toilet. It was only when he was encouraged to sit on the special Spiderman seat attachment that his bladder became an extension of his iron will.

Stiles was close to breaking. It wasn’t a proud moment. The edge of the bathtub was digging into his butt, the smell of breakfast was making his mouth water, and patient Ed downstairs was probably resigning himself to a life of no more morning walkies ever. Stiles looked at the clock again and promised himself he'd wait until 8:30, no longer. He had to draw the line somewhere, no matter how much it stung.

With a minute to go on the clock, the sound of a steady stream hitting porcelain filled the small room. Teddy smiled proudly, like peeing had been his goal all along and exclaimed, “I did it!.” The little booger.

Once they washed their hands and put their pants back on, Stiles scooped Teddy up and carted him downstairs to the kitchen. Derek stood at the counter, spreading peanut butter on toast with his faithful hound at his feet hoping and praying for a dropped crumb or two. 

“Any luck?” Derek asked, as Stiles settled Teddy at the breakfast table.

“You can call me Pee Coaxer Extraordinaire.”

“Congrats.” Derek brought the overflowing plate of toast to the table, along with a mug of coffee, which Stiles rewarded him for with a totally PG morning kiss. 

Breakfast was quiet and comfortable, with minimal damage to anyone’s clean clothes, for once. Teddy’s face was a peanut butter warzone, though, so they all trooped to the kitchen sink for a scrub down. Derek held a squirming Teddy in his arms while Stiles wielded the wet wash cloth and avoided the gigantic golden retriever-sized growth he seemed to have acquired.

It was astonishing how much difference a curious 3 year old and a large, affectionate dog could make to a small kitchen. The space that had once seemed so cozy and perfect now felt cramped when they all piled in. It was alright, and they made it work, but if Stiles could travel back in time, he’d probably choose to go to the moment when they were picking which house to make their home and shake himself until they went with the one with the gigantic kitchen. Then again, they’d have ended up with a bathroom that was about the size of postage stamp, and given the amount of time they spent in there these days, that wouldn’t have worked out well either.

When Teddy’s face was sparkling clear, they let him go and he hit the ground running, Edward in tow. Derek and Stiles leaned against the counter and watched through the open plan first floor as Teddy babbled away to his dog about the ambitious construction project he was planning with his Lego.

“Do you think he remembers last night?” Derek asked, softly, so that Teddy’s sensitive ears wouldn’t hear too much.

“Hard to say. He seems fine now.” The happy sounds of playing in the living room were so different from the heartbreaking whimpers of last night. Teddy had had nightmares before, like most kids, but never like that. “I’ll keep an eye on him today, maybe feel him out with some questions to see if he wants to talk about it.”

“Good. You okay with him until two o’clock?”

“Definitely.”

“Thanks.”

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles from behind and placed a gentle, lingering kiss to his neck. The scratchy feel of Derek’s stubble sent a shiver down Stiles’ spine, made his face heat up a bit. Damn, he was on a hair trigger these days. Stiles turned in Derek’s arms and gave him a longer, firmer kiss on the lips, then smacked his ass to send him on his way. Derek glowered at him as if he didn’t love it and disappeared through the sliding door off the kitchen that led to his workshop in the basement.

Stiles shook off any amorous feelings he might have had, and focused on cleaning up the peanut butter toast detritus. He had dogs to walk and parks to visit.

**

Teddy hadn’t met Edward until the morning after the dog had come to live with them. By the time all the paperwork had been filled out, been read the riot act about neutering again, and made the drive home at a sedate (legal) pace, it had been late enough that they’d decided to hold off until morning.

When the big reveal finally came, they were glad they’d decided to wait. Teddy saw Edward and was so joyously happy and excited that he would have been up past midnight. Teddy had brought his hands to his smiling mouth and squealed loud enough that even Stiles with his human ears had winced. Stiles and Derek had watched, overjoyed, as Edward, who’d been friendly and grateful, but timid, had wagged his tail and immediately bathed Teddy’s face in sloppy kisses.

The best part? When the lick fest was over, and Teddy stopped giggling long enough to catch his breath, he’d pointed to the dog and said, clear as day, “Edward!” To say that Derek and Stiles had been shocked would be a massive understatement. It had been almost a month since Teddy had been liberated from the shelter, and he’d been so withdrawn and sad during his time there that they hadn’t even considered that Teddy might remember the dog who’d lived in a nearby kennel.

That first day, they’d played the whole morning, and into the afternoon, with only a small break for that pesky food thing. Edward allowed his new best friend to climb all over him, pull his silky ears and dress him up with any stray fabric Teddy could find, including socks (dirty or clean), dish towels and Stiles’ only nice tie for fancy occasions. When Teddy finally consented to give a nap the old college try, he wouldn’t hear of Eddie staying on the floor, and curled up next to him as the big spoon.

When Stiles had come in to wake them both, he’d found Teddy sitting up in bed, pressing his hand against the pads of Eddie’s feet, whispering softly in a tone that was very much like Derek’s when he coaxed Teddy back to his human form. When Teddy noticed Stiles standing there, he looked up with an expression on his face that said, _Okay, enough now._

Stiles, with help from Derek, tried his best to assure Teddy that Edward wasn’t going to become human, and Teddy seemed to accept that explanation, but he still looked sadly at Eddie sometimes.

It didn’t seem to matter much in the long run. Boy and dog were inseparable. Ed and Ted, the wonder team. It became an almost daily habit for Teddy and Stiles to walk Eddie to the park, with both of their hands on the leash, just in case. Stiles would sometimes be regaled with a story Teddy made up as he went along, then, when they arrived at the play structure, he’d act it out for Stiles with occasional guest appearances from Ed or a carefully placed leaf.

Today, they didn’t have the park to themselves, so Stiles kept Ed on a leash by his side, even though the thought of him running away or hurting anyone was laughable. Pesky leash by-laws. Stiles was watching Teddy perform a dramatic balcony scene a la Romeo and Juliet when he was interrupted by someone saying hello to Eddie.

“She’s a real beauty,” the man said, enthusiastically rubbing the top of Eddie’s head.

Stiles’ forced a friendly smile, unusually peeved by the mistake. “It’s he, actually. His name’s Edward.”

“My mistake, then, Edward. Mine’s Steve. That’s my little one over there.” Steve pointed to a boy who was climbing up the tallest slide the park had to offer, then stuck out a hand for Stiles to shake. Stiles’ palms immediately began to sweat. He _hated_ shaking hands. He always panicked and worried he didn’t have a strong enough grip or he was misreading the signs and he should be fistbumping instead. He did it anyway, since he wasn’t completely lacking in social graces, then shoved his hand deep into his pocket to recover.

“Stiles. Nice to meet you. My kid’s just about ready for curtain call, actually.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Come here often?” Stiles asked, for lack of less tired small talk topics.

“Not really. My car’s in for an oil change at a garage up the street, and we’ve got nothing better to do. It figures the one morning his mom’s off for a spa day with her girlfriends is the day I have things to do.”

“Yeah. Tough luck.” At Stiles’ knee, Eddie tilted his head up and back, his brown eyes unimpressed with Mr. Steve Weekend Dad. Stiles felt the same. He couldn’t figure out whether fate had chosen him an anti-social dog, or whether he’d taught Eddie to be anti-social by never wanting to socialize. As it was, Ed would sit and allow people to coo over him, but he did so with a stoic expression of mere tolerance.

“Dad!” Teddy shouted from the monkey bars. “Lunchtime?” 

_Oh, thank god_ , Stiles nearly said. It wasn’t the first time he’d been saved from an awkward conversation by his kid’s need to know when his next meal was coming.

“Well, that looks like my cue. Nice to meet you, Steve.” Had he already said that? He decided he didn’t care. Teddy took the slide down (not the one that Steve’s boy was still conquering, because he was polite like that) and raced over, taking Eddie’s leash with a stern face that made Stiles’ chest go mushy.

“Hey, there, little guy,” Steve said, bending down into Teddy’s face and smiling with lots of white teeth. Apparently, interpreting the signals of _Leaving Now_ wasn’t Steve’s forte. “Is this your doggy?”

Teddy said nothing. He smiled up at Steve, and met his eyes, but he didn’t nod or acknowledge the question in any way.

Steve tried again. Stiles had to admire his persistence. “How old are you, buddy?”

Again, Steve got blanked. Stiles filled with resulting silence with a cheerful, “You ready to go, Mr. T?”

Teddy nodded and tightened his grip on the leash with a glint in his eye that clearly said, _Dad, I was born ready_. Stiles was about to bid farewell to dear old Steve, but Steve wasn’t ready to let them go.

“How old’s your boy, 4? He should definitely be talking by now. You should maybe get that checked out,” Steve advised, with a wise nod, as if he were an expert on developmental stages of toddlers. And as if Teddy hadn’t been chatting up a storm a minute earlier.

“Three and a half. He talks fine at home. He’s just shy,” Stiles said, somewhat testily.

“There’s some really good speech therapists around these days. My friend Dave’s kid couldn’t say her Rs, they fixed that right up.”

“Good for Dave. Teddy’s just on the quiet side.”

“I could email you that therapist’s number, if you like. She came highly recommended.”

“That’s not necessary.” Stiles felt like stamping his foot like a toddler and throwing a tantrum so he could excuse himself for time-out. Instead, he snatched Teddy up and jerked his chin toward the jungle gym. “Wow, that looks dangerous.”

Steve Junior had made it to the top of the slide and was hanging upside-down from the metal railing above it. Steve swore and yelled at him to get down, and Stiles seized his moment.

“Bye, Steve,” he called over his shoulder, and hightailed it for home.

“Jeez, can you believe that guy?” He asked Teddy, once they were out of earshot. 

“Noodles for lunch,” Teddy said, firmly.

Stiles sighed, and used Teddy’s hand to facepalm. “Ted, you’ve got a one track mind, have I ever told you that?”

“Yep.” 

**

Stiles was just cutting out the dinosaur shape in Teddy’s PB and J when Derek emerged from the workshop. He was covered in wood shavings and damp from exertion, but he still managed to be devastatingly gorgeous. Plus, he was wearing the tool belt. The one that made Stiles’ mouth water and his fingers twitch to unbuckle it.

“You big tease,” Stiles muttered in Derek’s direction. Derek’s only response was to smirk and drain a bottle of water like a Dasani ad model.

Ever since Derek had found out how weak Stiles was in the face of a low-slung tool belt, he’d been using it against him. For whose gain, Stiles wasn’t sure. They’d had sex exactly five times in the four months they’d had Teddy, and each of those had been painstakingly planned and executed with meticulous detail. There was no chance of a quickie in the kitchen in their immediate future, so Derek was only toying with both of their libidos.

Stiles wouldn’t give up his little boy for the world, but if he could change one thing about how the whole thing had gone down, he would go back and make sure he and Derek fucked like bunnies for the weeks leading up to their first day of parenthood. But really, who was he kidding? They’d been doing that anyway.

Stiles put a small pile of cheesy noodles and the dinosaured sandwich on a plate for Ted and ham and cheese (and alfalfa sprouts for Derek because he was a freak) on another for himself and Derek. The tool belt came off, and while the three of them ate, Stiles told Derek all about Steve and his sage advice.

“I just don’t get that kind of nosy parent,” Stiles said, brandishing a fork to make his point. “They think that just because they’re also in charge of the care and feeding of a tiny human, they can force their opinions on me. Seriously, what kind of person goes around telling random strangers that their kid should get ‘checked out?’ Like, what does that even _mean?_ He just--Ted, fork, remember?”

Teddy looked up from his noodles with cheese all over his chin. “Yep.”

“Is that enough ketchup for you?”

“Yep”

“Do you want a napkin?”

“Nope.”

Such a direct child, their little boy was.

Derek stood up from the table and started to clean up around Teddy, leaving him to his noodle massacre. “I’m proud of your restraint. I probably would’ve snapped at that ass--butthole.”

Stiles snorted at Derek’s slip up. “I don’t think butthole’s much better, babe.”

“Maybe not. I tried, though.”

When the kitchen was more-or-less tidy, Stiles gave Teddy a peck on the forehead, Derek a kiss on the lips, and Eddie a long, drawn out smooch in the general mouth area. There was tongue. A lot of it.

It was Stiles’ turn to retreat to a quiet part of the house (namely, his tiny disaster area of an office) and attempt to work from home for a few hours. They’d worked out a shift schedule that seemed to be working for them, especially since they’d both cut down on the amount of projects they were taking on. Teddy didn’t appear to mind the occasional loss of parent to the necessary task of bringing home the bacon. Especially when he got to share that bacon with Eddie. Ed _loved_ bacon.

**

That night, a full-on scream was what woke Stiles. He was able to react a little quicker, this time, and he and Derek calmed Teddy down to soft whimpers in just a couple of minutes. When Teddy was calmer, he buried his face into Stiles’ chest and went back to sleep, as if nothing had happened.

“We did colouring today,” Derek said, softly. Stiles had seen the crayons and construction paper in the living room before dinner. “I asked him if he remembered his dream, and if he could draw me a picture.”

Stiles was afraid to ask, but he had to know. “What did he draw?”

Derek swallowed hard and reached out to rub a slow circle on Teddy’s back. “Bars. Scary faces at the top of the page, like he was looking up at them. And a car, I think. Maybe the one that dropped him off at the shelter.”

Stiles’ heart plunged, even though it was nothing he hadn’t been expecting. “Was he okay? Did he seem upset?”

“He was fine. His next picture was of Daddy dressed up as a giant bird. I’m still not sure which of us he meant.”

Stiles choked on a laugh. “That yellow blob I saw on the fridge? That was definitely you. Didn’t you see the grumpy face he drew?”

“I don’t know. I thought those skinny chicken legs bore a very strong resemblance to yours.”

Stiles uttered the quietest outraged gasp he could manage. “I have never been so insulted in my life. You know Leg Day is hard for me. I’m a runner, not a lift-heavy-things-and-put-them-downer.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, you big baby. You know I love your chicken legs.”

Stiles snorted and was about to snark something about how at least he didn’t get mistaken for an escaped gorilla, but Eddie let out a long, low grumble and a put-upon sigh from the end of the bed. “Well, excuse me. Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep.”

They did quiet down after that. Teddy was sleeping peacefully, but it took his parents much longer to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait...but for everyone who requested it, here is the sequel to Perfect Timing. This fic wasn't meant to be this long or angsty, but it turned into a monster while I wasn't looking. It's also the only fic I've ever written that truly earns the tag "Fluff and Angst"


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles was still getting used to the fact that he was now the type of adult who “did lunch” with his best friend. Sure, they still got together for videogame sessions, and low-key barbecues were an almost weekly occurrence during the summer. But with both of them working, and with a child each, sometimes it was simply easier to meet at a diner over a shared lunch break. They were professional adults, multitasking.

If they still ordered chocolate pudding with gummy worms in it for dessert, then no one else was there to judge them.

Scott was full of stories from a busy week at the vet clinic, and Stiles complained, yet again, about nosy parents. It was nice, and for a while he was able to forget about the tension he’d been carrying around all day. Scott was perceptive, though, and could tell when Stiles was worried about something.

When he finally asked Stiles what was bugging him, Stiles didn’t bother to sidestep the question. He told Scott about Teddy’s nightmares.

“Derek thinks it might be a full moon thing, which doesn’t really make me feel any better about it. We’ve got a whole week until it’s actually full, so if he’s having problems now, that doesn’t really bode well for the actual night.” Stiles scrubbed a hand down his face and pushed his half-full pudding away. “I’m starting to think it might be better to wait until next month.”

For the last four months--and three complete lunar cycles--Teddy had been living with them, they’d opted out of the pack’s full moon get-togethers. Teddy had been nervous and a little bit uncontrolled for the first two, so they’d felt good about their decision to let him experience it in the comfort of his home. The first time, it had been just the three of them, the second, Grandpa had joined them, then after that, Erica and Boyd had spent the better part of the evening at their place. He’d been able to get used to the feelings he’d experience and the presence of other pack members around him. Up until this week, they were pretty certain that the time was right to integrate him into the whole pack. Now, he was doubting that certainty.

Scott shook his head. “I can’t make your decision for you, bro. But if you ask me, it’s better to pull the bandaid off now. You can’t predict what his mood will be each month, but the full moon will happen anyway. Maybe one month he’ll be sick, or he won’t get a good sleep the night before, or, hell, he’s going through puberty.” Both of them shuddered at the thought, and put it out of their minds quickly. They each had years to go before they had to deal with that particular nightmare. “This is what his life is going to be like. He should know that. But it’s your call.”

“You’re right,” Stiles said, on a sigh. “I don’t want him to get to used to how things are now. It’ll be more of an adjustment if we put it off.”

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to suggest something for a little while.” Scott sat up in the bench seat of their booth and dropped his gummy worm back into the brown chocolate mess. “Why doesn’t Natalie come over for a sleepover in the next couple of days? It’ll give Teddy some more practice at having people in his den, and he might get even closer with Nat. Having her there as a close friend on full moon night might help him feel better.” 

“Dude! That’s a great idea!” Stiles pulled his phone out to text Derek. “When’s the best time for you?”

They hashed out the details while they waited for the bill to come to their table, then Scott had to rush away. He was late for an appointment with a standard poodle’s anal glands.

**

Stiles trudged home from a boring progress meeting at City Hall to see Teddy and Derek waiting for him, their faces smushed up against the window. He laughed out loud at the sight of their mashed noses and fishy lips and was still out of breath from giggling when he stumbled inside.

The three of them squished into the love seat, with Stiles tucked under Derek’s arm and Teddy sprawled across both of their laps, still snickering like mad.

“That was quite a welcome,” Stiles said, almost starting up laughing again at the memory of Derek’s perfect cheekbones smeared like stubbly butter on the glass.

“I told Ted that Scott and Kira are coming with Natalie. He’s excited, so I said he could watch for them. It got out of hand quickly.” 

Stiles sighed gustily. “I miss all the best things when I leave the house. You two crack me up.”

“If you consider that to be the height of hilarity, I think you need to raise your standards.”

“Never! Fart noises and funny faces will always be comedic gold. That, and watching you trying to do up Teddy’s buttons right the first time.”

Derek’s mouth darted forward into the crook of Stiles’ neck and he blew a wet raspberry on his ticklish skin. Stiles yelped and nearly dumped Teddy off their laps. Teddy squealed and squirmed until more raspberries were being blown on his plump little boy belly, so he squirmed and squealed some more. When all three of them were tickled out, Ted hopped off and went back to making nose prints on the window. 

“Is that glass clean enough for him to put his mouth on?” Stiles asked, dubiously.

Derek shrugged. “It’s not like a little dust is going to make him sick.”

“Uh huh,” He said, slowly, eying the trails of slobber on the glass. “Well, you get to make sure he brushes his teeth extra good before bedtime kisses, ‘kay?”

Stiles patted Derek on the knee and levered himself up to change out of his Adulting clothes.

**

Scott and Kira ended up lingering long after they were sure Natalie had everything she needed. They’d packed a bag with enough clothes and supplies to last a week, and neither of them were helicopter parents, but they ended up staying for coffee anyway. Stiles helped himself to some Post-City Hall Frustration sugary cereal, but neither Derek nor the McCalls joined him. Kira excitedly informed them that it was Date Night, and they were going out to eat at a local Italian place.

A year ago, Stiles had had to keep in his laughter at the excitement in his friend’s faces when they told him they were doing something strictly for themselves. Now, he understood their happiness on a spiritual level. He _got_ it, and he couldn’t wait until Erica and Boyd got it too. Then, they could arrange a trifecta of babysitting that would give them all an occasional free night. Considering how long Erica and Boyd had been gone on each other, he didn’t think he’d have to wait much more.

Erica had decided to finally give Boyd a chance just a few weeks after Derek and Stiles had stopped dancing around each other. It made Stiles nervous sometimes, to consider the divorce statistics of couples who’d gotten together in high school. (Or met in high school, and pined for each other until their undying love was legal.) He spent the occasional night tossing and turning, and wondering which of them would be the ones to break up, because it was naive to think that they’d all stay together forever, right? But in the morning, with a clear head, he’d attempt to picture which of them would ever willingly separate, and he knew they’d all beat the odds.

Also, they had Isaac and Lydia to either marry outside the pack or stay single, and that was a little comforting. God forbid the two of them ever decide they had a special love connection they’d managed to ignore for the past decade.

Scott eventually dragged Kira away from sharing the details of every dish she’d read about online so that they could make their reservation on time. After a round of goodbye kisses (Stiles claimed one from Scott as well, to Natalie and Kira’s amusement), all of them waved at Scott and Kira from the window as they walked down the steps and got into the car. It was only when they started to pull out of the driveway that Teddy grabbed the sill tightly and let out a distressed whimper.

Derek was kneeling down to his level in an instant, placing a gentle hand on his back and asking, “Hey, champ, what’s wrong?”

“They’re gone,” Teddy whispered, and his lip started to tremble. He pulled away from Derek’s hands and wrapped his arms around Natalie’s tiny waist. Stiles and Derek watched, stunned, as he patted her back and made soothing, shushing sounds, as if her eyes weren’t dry as a bone, and she wasn’t still smiling from ear to ear.

“He thinks...” Derek couldn’t finish the sentence, but Stiles had figured it out anyway. Teddy thought Scott and Kira had left Natalie behind.

It didn’t make a lot of sense to Stiles. Teddy had surprisingly few abandonment issues, when it came to his parents. The pack connection he felt with them probably helped a lot, and he’d determined that while they might leave sometimes, it would never be forever, and rarely at the same time. Natalie and Teddy had met before, and their play dates had been only halfheartedly supervised from another room. Teddy hadn’t minded their inattention then.

That didn’t stop Teddy from being upset right now. Natalie looked down at him, puzzled, but didn’t try to stop Teddy from comforting her. Then, she looked up at Stiles with a confused puppy expression that was the spitting image of her father’s.

Stiles carefully placed his hands over Teddy’s and started to pull them away from Natalie’s back. “It’s alright, Teddy Bear,” he said, when Teddy whined and tried to shrink away. “They’re gonna come back. It’s okay.”

“Should we call them?” Derek asked. “We can cancel the sleepover, if you think...”

Stiles shook his head immediately. “No. We need to teach him that they’ll always come back for her. Always.”

Stiles and Derek sat with Teddy on the floor by the window for a long time, repeating in as many different ways as they could think of that Scott and Kira were going to come back for Natalie tomorrow. That it was only temporary. Natalie waited patiently by Teddy’s Lego treasure chest, making thoughtful faces at the blocks as she considered what they might build together.

When they ran out of iterations of Don’t Worry, Be Happy, Teddy wasn’t cheerful, but he also didn’t look quite as upset. He nodded and patted both his parents on the cheek, then joined Natalie at the Lego bin. Stiles wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or not, since he didn’t know how much of their reassurances Ted had believed.

They left the kids to their own devices, only interrupting for a snack a few hours before bedtime. They took turns keeping an eye on them from the dining room table, but the only sign that Teddy wasn’t his normal carefree self was the trips he took every half hour to look out the window at the empty driveway. That, and he’d lost most of his words, but Natalie was exceptionally talented at talking for the both of them.

When their energy started to flag, and their impressive village of “flower cupcake kitty houses” was deemed complete (Derek nodded like he understood and approved, but Stiles was still confused), they carried the kids upstairs to settle in for the night. 

“Teddy, I mean, Eddie. No, dang it, _Natalie_. Could you brush your teeth, please?” Derek smothered his laughter, and Stiles glared at him. “Please don’t ever tell my best friend I called his daughter our dog’s name,” he begged. Derek grinned around his toothbrush, with a gleam in his eye that promised Stiles’ secret shame would be divulged at the worst (or best) possible moment.

PJs were donned and hair brushed, then Ted and Natalie climbed into the bed in the room that used to be Teddy’s. (That lasted about a month, tops. Stiles had ended up binge-reading a bunch of articles about co-sleeping with toddlers and made some extrapolations of his own about werewolf kids, so he didn’t worry about it.) Stories were read and goodnight kisses doled out, but they were pretty sure Teddy was going to be joining them by the end of the night. He wasn’t freaking out, or getting upset like he had before, but he seemed tense and a bit anxious. They had to stop him from chewing on his fingers a few times before _Goodnight Moon_ was finished.

A few hours later, Stiles lay awake in bed with Derek, who’d managed to drop off. Teddy hadn’t come in yet, and Stiles hadn’t heard any noises from the room next door in ages, so he really had no reason to worry. That didn’t stop him, though. He was a world class worrier. When the clock ticked over to midnight, he gave up convincing himself that they were fine and got up to check for himself.

He eased the door open slowly, casting a shaft of light from the hallway onto the bed. Natalie’s face was visible, her mouth open in deep sleep. Next to her, where he’d hoped (though not expected) to see a Teddy-shaped lump beneath the covers, there was only empty space. He pushed the door open farther, and saw Teddy kneeling on the pillow in the window seat, looking out at the still empty driveway.

“Hey, bud,” Stiles whispered as he shut the door behind him. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Teddy smiled at him, his sharp baby teeth glistening in the night light’s blue glow, then went back to staring out the window.

“They’re gonna come back, baby. I promise.” Ted sighed, then nodded, but didn’t move an inch away from the glass. Stubborn boy.

Stiles grabbed the folded quilt from the end of the bed and sat on the window seat. Teddy snuggled into his chest and they pulled the blanket tight around them, looking out the window together with Stiles’ back leaning on the wall. Teddy faded quickly and became a dead weight on Stiles’ chest, but Stiles stayed where he was, keeping Teddy’s watch for him.

**

Breakfast was as quiet and peaceful with Natalie as it was without her. That is to say, not at all. They made a metric fuck ton of pancakes with a boat load of syrup, since two growing (and one grown) werewolves ate an inconceivable amount of food on a daily basis. Grandpa Stilinski cackled every time he contemplated what their grocery bill would look like when Teddy was a teenager.

When Scott and Kira arrived to pick up their incredibly sticky daughter, the smiles on their faces were dopey and relaxed, and Stiles decided to ignore this. He was pretty sure the answer to the question, “What’s got you so happy this morning?” would be way more information than he needed about his best friend.

Teddy almost beat Natalie to her dad’s arms when they walked in the door. His smile was just as happy at hers, and twice as relieved. He held Nat’s hand until the the moment left, pointing at her parents and saying, “See? See?” Like he’d been the one who’d known they’d come back for her.

When they were gone, with a promise to have another one soon, Stiles and Derek (and Teddy) tentatively pronounced the sleepover a success, then they all went back to bed. After showering, of course. If Stiles was going to have sticky sheets, he wanted it to be for a much more fun reason than pancakes and syrup.

**

Stiles hadn’t been woken up in the middle of the night with his heart pounding so many times in one week since he was in high school and people were getting attacked whenever he stopped looking at them for long enough.

Derek already had Teddy curled into his side, and Stiles could see Teddy’s back shaking with sobs in the aftermath of another nightmare. Teddy was an emotional kid. He was sweet and sensitive, and when he cried, it wasn’t crocodile tears. He was genuinely upset or sad enough to produce real ones.

Watching now, as Teddy soaked the front of Derek’s shirt with the evidence of his sincere desolation, Stiles felt like crying along with him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the whole time I was planning this fic, this chapter was called “Interlude of Cute Domestication,” so that will give you an idea of what you’re in for :) Enjoy this little break from parental concern.

Once Derek had shown Teddy how to keep his wolf side at bay, Teddy had mastered control of it remarkably quickly. He never flashed his eyes unless a pack member flashed them first, his nails always stayed at a normal length for humans. (Shockingly fast-growing and painfully sharp, but normal.) And he only showed his beta form when coaxed and encouraged by his parents.

He got along well with other kids whenever he had a chance to interact with them. Last night’s sleepover with Natalie had proven that long term exposure to other children didn’t unleash a hidden side of Teddy where he turned into a horrid, violent troll-like creature.

He could share, he could take turns, he could communicate his needs through verbal or nonverbal means. He was perfectly fine in social scenarios. So, there was no reason for Stiles and Derek to be sitting in their car outside of play group with Teddy in the backseat getting more bored by the second.

“We’ll be right there if anything happens,” Derek said, next to Stiles, his knuckles distinctly white on the steering wheel.

“Yep.”

“He’s got better control than Natalie, and she’s got two years on him.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’ll do great.”

“Definitely.”

“Damn it, we need to go in there.”

“You’re right.”

“In!” Said Teddy, patting the buckle on his seat belt.

Derek sighed, and hung his head like he was seriously considering letting it thump to the wheel and stay there. Then, he swung his gaze over to Stiles and said, flatly, “So, why are we still sitting out here?”

Stiles grinned ruefully and took Derek’s face in his hand, then assured him, “You’ll be fine, baby, and I’ll be right there if you need me. I won’t leave you with the scary play group moms.”

Derek’s eyebrows tilted and his mouth pressed into an unimpressed line, but Stiles could see the tiny uptick of amusement in the corner. Stiles finally bit the bullet, undid his own seat belt and collected a cackling Teddy. Derek and Stiles took a moment to steel themselves before they entered the front door and were assaulted with a wave of the powerful, unmistakable crayon and cookie smell of toddlers on the brink of becoming kids.

As soon as Teddy saw the dress-up chest and miniature playhouse, he abandoned his dads to the wilderness of Social Interaction. Stiles panicked, and stood way closer to Derek than necessary, then chuckled a bit hysterically when he realized they were both standing in an identical arms-crossed-over-chest posture. Not the most welcoming body language. Stiles took a deep breath and grabbed Derek’s wrist, pulling it away from his chest and using it to tow him through the crowd to the coffee table across the room.

There was a lot of people there. Plenty of women, but a few dads too. There was even another same-gender couple, a pair of women who smiled and waved at them excitedly, as if they’d ever met before. It was an odd moment for Stiles when he recognized a few people from his graduating class, but he supposed he was at that age. God knew his Facebook newsfeed was full of engagement photos and pregnancy announcements. He’d just never connected the goofball lacrosse players and giggly clique girls with functional adult milestones like mortgages and children.

It had only dawned him recently how strange it was that they’d never considered the possibility of having kids until Teddy came into their lives. The mental block was probably something they’d developed at the beginning of their relationship, before they’d gotten to the forever stage. Beacon Hills had still been a turbulent place, and attracted trouble even after Scott and Stiles had tried to attend college farther afield. That kind of mortal danger and uncertainty...You just don’t bring kids into that. It had been pondered, then dismissed almost in the same second, and never out loud. Even when Scott and Kira had had Natalie (a few years earlier than they’d planned, but cherished nonetheless) his biological clock hadn’t begun to tick.

Post-Teddy, Scott told Stiles that kids were like Lays chips. He couldn’t have just one. Scott and Kira couldn’t wait to give Natalie a sibling, and were already worried that five years age difference was too much. Stiles wasn’t sure, though. As much as he thought the idea of more kids had a certain charm (he’d be lying to himself if he thought that he hadn’t pictured Derek’s big hands braiding long hair for a little girl with hazel eyes) he was also really happy with their threesome. Teddy was a great kid, but he wasn’t without his issues. He required a lot of attention that Derek and Stiles were perfectly willing and happy to give.

Another thing that gave him pause was that Stiles didn’t actually like children, in general. He liked Natalie, since she was everything he liked about both Scott and Kira rolled into a tiny package. But he also had a guarantee that he could give her back when he couldn’t take her adorable and _constant_ questions any longer. He liked his own kid. Obviously. That was why he, an admittedly selfish individual with few nurturing instincts, was able to love Teddy and care for him and always want the best for him despite kids (Teddy included) being loud, time-consuming, snot-covered hell beasts.

Stiles stirred way too much sugar into his weak coffee and wondered if all parents felt that way. Was there anyone who genuinely, unequivocally liked other people’s kids? If there was, Stiles wanted to shake their hand. Actually, he probably didn’t, considering the kind of germs they were likely to be carrying.

“Hey, are there any special illnesses Teddy can get?” Stiles asked, absently.

Derek shrugged. “I don’t think so. There’s no _unique_ flu he’s more susceptible to, and he isn’t likely to catch the normal ones, unless his immune system tanks.”

Stiles shuddered at the thought, and was just about to suggest they talk to Deaton about it when a streak of blonde appeared in his line of vision and a perky voice interrupted him.

“Are you folks considering alternatives to vaccination?” A woman asked, with a blindingly white smile.

Stiles just barely suppressed a scoff. Only the red flashing lights and alarm bells going off in his brain stopped him. _Warning: Controversial Topic. Avoid at All Costs._ “Well, we--”

“Because I couldn’t help but overhear your concerns and I can point you in the direction of some excellent resources for finding the truth about--”

“Oh, lord, Vanessa, don’t start on the newbies.” Another woman’s hand came down on Vanessa’s shoulder. She smiled at Stiles and Derek with a merry twinkle in her eye. “Let them breathe before you give them the lecture on Big Pharma, okay?”

Vanessa tittered uncomfortably. “Hi, Sonya. Well, you boys come find me if you want to be enlightened, huh?”

“We sure will,” Derek said, smiling widely with lots of teeth.

Vanessa drifted off to chat with some other parents, but Sonya stayed, and rolled her eyes in their direction. 

“Oi. Don’t let her catch you alone in a darkened room. You’ll be stuck there until you renounce the evils of high-fructose corn syrup.”

“Good to know,” Stiles said, and extended his hand for her to shake. “Thanks for the rescue. I’m Stiles, this is Derek.”

“Nice to meet you, Stiles. Now, Derek I know. It’s been a long time, Bugsy.”

“It sure has, Miss Piggy,” Derek snarked back, with no hesitation. Stiles’ eyes widened at the nickname, but Sonya just laughed loud enough to turn heads and went in for a hug. Derek didn’t stiffen, or shy away, and his awkward pat on Sonya’s back actually looked affectionate. “Sonya and Laura were good friends in high school,” Derek explained when they separated.

“Best friends. We teased him mercilessly, with all the superiority that 16 year olds hold over 14 year olds.” Sonya snaked out a finger and poked Derek hard in his rock hard abs. “Glad to see you grew into the teeth. And the ears. And the _feet_ , dear god, we never let you hear the end of that!”

“I was truly scarred by your ruthlessness,” Derek deadpanned, but Stiles knew their jibes were built on a foundation of real fondness. 

Sonya sobered, and took Derek’s hand in one of hers, gripping tightly with bright red-tipped fingers. “I cried for days after I heard about Laura,” she said, gently. “She came to see me right before she…went missing. We had that sort of friendship where we could go years without seeing each other, but when we did, it was like no time had passed. We just picked up from where we left off. I was pregnant with my first, and Laura told me I looked as big as a whale. When she was born, we chose Laura as a middle name. It felt right.”

Derek’s eyes had gotten wider and wider as she spoke, soaking up the memories of his sister’s last days. “I’m glad,” he said, his voice gravelly with emotion.

“I never believed what people were saying, about you being responsible,” Sonya said, fiercely. “I’m sorry I didn’t look you up, when it happened. You’d kept the funeral so private, I didn’t think you’d appreciate me butting in. Then it seemed like I’d let it go too long, and I couldn’t--”

Derek covered their clasped hands with his free one. “It’s okay, Sonya. I understand.”

“Good.” Sonya smiled widely and gestured at the table, which was laden with platters. “Did you get a snack? I made the blueberry muffins, so steer clear of those.”

They helped themselves to paper plates and loaded them with treats, then put the serious stuff behind them. They spent the next couple of hours chatting with Sonya and some of her friends, while keeping an eye on Teddy and April--Sonya’s youngest daughter who was Ted’s age--at the dress up station. To Stiles’ relief, it wasn’t anything near as horrible and awkward as he’d been preparing himself for. It was actually nice to be able to talk to other adults about things that weren’t their kids. Stiles hadn’t seen a movie that wasn’t Disney in weeks, so he soaked up his new acquaintance's negative review of a recent Channing Tatum flick. 

When Teddy looked about ready to topple over from happy exhaustion, Sonya demanded their phone numbers and their promises to come back soon, and they poured Ted into his car seat for the ride home. Once he passed out, Teddy didn’t wake up at all, even when Stiles unbuckled him, then carted him all the way up to the bedroom and tucked him in. When he had the free space, Teddy slept like a starfish. He sprawled out in the middle of the bed immediately, and Stiles couldn’t resist perching on the edge and brushing Teddy’s fine, soft brown hair away from his forehead. God, he loved this kid.

When Stiles and Derek had finally gotten over themselves and fallen in love, they’d both been shaken by the intensity of feeling they’d had to deal with. They completed each other in places they hadn’t known they weren’t whole and the idea that he’d found his soulmate without even trying that hard sometimes made him so grateful that it was a sweet, physical ache. They were co-dependant and probably unhealthily obsessed with each other, but that was fine, because it was all completely mutual and they only had to keep one other person safe forever or face a complete nervous breakdown.

Now, they had another person to worry about. When Stiles wasn’t incandescently happy that he had a perfect little boy who’d fallen into his lap by accident, he was on the verge of panicking about all the things that were bigger and scarier than Teddy that could take him away. It was terrifying. But he wouldn’t give it up for the world.

Stiles left his baby sleeping, closing the door partway so that Eddie could get into the room in a little while, as he inevitably would want to do. Stiles followed the sound of Eddie’s warbling singing voice down the stairs to find Derek still in the entryway.

Ed was on his back, legs splayed, an old tennis shoe in his mouth and the other one nowhere in sight. Derek was on his knees, rubbing Ed’s belly and crooning soft words to him while Ed moaned and grumbled with affection.

“Who’s a pretty boy, huh?” Derek asked, in a baby talk tone that he never used on Teddy. “Are you a big goof? You’re my goof. Yes, you’re daddy’s goof. Oh, yes, you’re a big suck. You are. You’re a pretty boy.”

The last stair under Stiles’ foot creaked, and Derek’s head snapped up. For a moment, the only sound was Edward’s blissed out groaning while Derek thought about whether he should be embarrassed or not. Stiles could see the decision being made in Derek’s eyes.

Before Derek had decided, though, Stiles got down on his knees as well, burying his hand in the thick fur of Eddie’s neck and said, “There’s my little Eddie-weddy. I’m gonna give you a kiss. Yes, I am. Gimme a kiss, pretty baby, I love it.”

Eddie sang and sang, wagging his tail like mad and covering the poor shoe in an ocean of slobber.


	4. Chapter 4

Back in high school, the words “full moon” used to send a shiver of foreboding down Stiles’ spine. Scott felt the same, as did most of the rest of the pack. Derek had already made so many good memories during the full moon with his family that it wasn’t as bad for him.

These days, the full moon was more like a party. An excuse once a month to gather everybody who was pack--or pack adjacent--and celebrate how quiet Beacon Hills had become with Scott as alpha and through their hard work building allies and cementing their reputation as Not To Be Fucked With.

Every month, they switched up the location of the late dinner and dessert portion, then they all gravitated toward Scott or Stiles’ houses, since both of them backed up onto the preserve, though on different sides. (The preserve was huge, and a large percentage of Beacon Hills could say the same.)

This month, it was Stiles and Derek’s turn to host. Actually, their turn had passed, but the schedule wasn’t set in stone, much as Lydia liked to make dire threats about forgetting.

The pack had been completely understanding about them wanting to take some time out of rotation, and had even asked if they’d needed longer, but the time was right.  
Teddy needed to get used to how his life would be, and find out that it was a great life to lead.

Stiles made a massive pot--two pots, actually--of chili and enough dinner rolls to rebuild a modest section of the Great Wall of China. Derek baked, and individually iced four dozen red velvet cupcakes, with help (sort of, more hindrance, really) from Teddy. Stiles had a theory about Derek overcompensating due to guilt for skipping their turn, but he wasn’t about to mention it, because red velvet cupcakes definitely beat Stiles’ signature store-bought chocolate chip cookies.

Teddy was doing great so far, just as they’d suspected he would. He was charming the heck out of people who didn’t need any more charming. The large, loud group didn’t seem to bother him, and there was only a couple of people in attendance that he’d never met before. (Chris Argent hung back, looking uncomfortable, like he was asking himself for the 100th time how he managed to get invited to a werewolf’s house on a full moon. And why he’d agreed to come.)

Bowls were scraped clean, and fingers licked for the last bits of cream cheese frosting. After they’d digested their food a bit, the moon was almost at its peak, so everyone, including the humans, spilled out into the backyard to prepare for the run. Stiles sat with Teddy on the porch step, and watched as the excitement grew. It had taken the bitten wolves some time to get used to the casual nudity required for activities where clothes would be shredded or lost, but they were completely comfortable with it now. Especially with their animal side so close to the surface like it was on nights like this.

Scott, as the alpha, was always the first to turn. Once they got into the forest, they’d break apart and keep track of each other through hearing instead of sight, but at the beginning, they surged into the trees as one entity. Scott always ran as a full wolf, and tonight was no different. When the change was finished, he let out a happy bark, then took the time to sniff and greet every other werewolf in attendance.

As soon as Scott became a dark brown and tan wolf, Stiles felt Teddy stiffen in his arms. He went absolutely still, his hands clenching onto Stiles’ arms hard enough to bruise. The only reason Stiles knew he was still breathing was because he could hear the air whistling in and out of Teddy’s nose at a much higher speed than what was normal.

Derek was out on the lawn in only his jeans, and he turned around to look at Stiles with concern in his eyes. Stiles shrugged, and tried to get Teddy to face him, but in the next second, Scott approached them, touching one of Teddy’s bare feet with his cold nose.

Teddy’s body bowed away from Stiles’ lap with tension, and he whined high in his throat, a completely human noise of real distress.

“Teddy Bear, what’s wrong?” Stiles asked, but he knew the answer before he’d uttered the question. Teddy didn’t respond, he just turned his head into Stiles’ chest, and avoided looking at Scott, like if he couldn’t see the wolf, it didn’t exist. 

Scott reared back and tilted his head in confusion, but he perked up when Stiles gave him a hand to sniff. He walked away, still confused, but not too bothered by Teddy’s reaction, and Teddy relaxed with every foot he travelled farther away, but he was still tense, and hiding his face from the world. A chorus of growls rose up among the wolves, quiet enough that Stiles’ and Derek’s distant neighbours could dismiss it for a loud television.

A tiny, high yipping made Teddy’s head snap up to look for the source. Natalie had shifted into her adorably fluffy wolf cub form. Derek had explained to Scott that she’d be able to do this until she was about 8 years old, then she’d lose the ability until she became an alpha, if she ever did.

Teddy’s face crumpled, and his mouth dropped open in a silent wail that very quickly became not so silent. He squirmed and bucked in Stiles’ lap until Stiles had no choice but to let him go, then he used his freedom to run as fast as his short legs could carry him across the backyard to Natalie’s side.

Derek reached them first, and tried to gather Teddy up to comfort him and stop his tears, but Teddy would not be held. Derek let him go when it became clear that Teddy might hurt himself if it continued. Derek--and Stiles once he reached them--looked on, helpless, as Teddy smoothed small panicked hands over Natalie’s soft fur, repeating “It’s okay, it’s okay,” over and over through his crying. 

Natalie tilted her head just like her dad, but she didn’t move or run. She didn’t pull away when Teddy pressed the pad of her foot to his palm, like he’d done with Eddie, and like Derek and Stiles had done when Teddy had regressed back to a form with paws in those first couple of weeks.

Stiles stomach was clenched into a tight, red hot ball of anguish. All he’d ever wanted to do for his son was comfort him, and show him he was safe and loved, but in doing that, they’d managed to reinforce that wolf shape equals bad, scary and definitely unsafe. Stiles replayed all those situations back in his head to try and work out what they could have done differently, but he can’t think of a single thing that would have eased Teddy’s fears the same way.

“Teddy,” Derek said, gingerly. “Natalie’s alright. She doesn’t have to shift back if she doesn’t want to.” Teddy went quiet, but didn’t stop his compulsive petting of Natalie’s head. “You could be a wolf too, if you--”

Derek and Stiles both winced at the pitch of Teddy’s protesting shriek. Teddy finally took his hands off Natalie and she scampered back to Kira while Teddy threw himself into Derek’s lap, screaming, “No, I want to stay!”

Stiles’ heart broke for what felt like the 100th time over Teddy’s sorrow. “Take him inside,” he said to Derek, under his breath. “He’s done for the night.”

Derek slung a limp Teddy over his shoulder and carried him to the house. Stiles stayed on his knees, his stinging eyes dazedly fixed on patch of grass. A high whine made him look up. Scott’s eyes were the same warm brown as a wolf as when he was wolf, and Stiles could recognize the sadness and worry in them. It was reflected in the faces of every werewolf in attendance.

Stiles cleared his voice, willing his voice to be steady. “You guys go. We’ll see you at breakfast.” He was hopeful that this was the truth, but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t know if Ted would be up for pancakes and bacon at their favourite diner. 

Stiles stumbled to his feet and went into the house, rushing past the wreckage of the kitchen up the stairs to the bedroom. Teddy wasn’t asleep, but he was almost there, barely hanging onto Derek’s words as he recited their favourite storybook from memory. The lonely goat was just about to walk into the friendly village when Stiles climbed on the bed and Teddy gave up the battle against fitful sleep.

“I didn’t think it would be so bad,” Stiles said, wrapping his hand around Teddy’s fist, clenched with tension even unconscious. “Did we fuck him up completely?”

Derek shook his head, sadly. “He’ll grow up. He’ll learn that changing to wolf form doesn’t mean he’ll be given back to the shelter. We have to be patient. It’s just--” He ran a harsh hand through his hair, snagging tufts in his fingers and pulling roughly. “He’s running out of time. I was 8 when I lost my wolf form and that was the first time I’d ever felt true loss. I was heartbroken. I loved that shape so much. I got over it, but if I could keep one thing from my disastrous attempt to be an alpha, it would be that. I never had the time to learn how, but that’s probably good, because I never would have wanted to give it up. I want Teddy to have that, and the clock is ticking down for him.”

“We’ll teach him to love it, then,” Stiles said, with more confidence than he felt. Derek nodded and clicked off the light. The night light and the glow of the bright full moon chased away the darkness as they curved inward around their son.

**

They never made it to breakfast. It was probably for the best, since Stiles had to make sure he was rested enough for his meeting with the city for yet another progress report. Barf.

Teddy was quiet, and a little subdued, but was otherwise happy and smiling. Stiles was still worried sick about him, but he and Derek made a conscious decision to put that to the back of their minds for today. Stiles had a couple hours to spare before he had to go to work, and he was going to enjoy them with his little boy and his perfect boyfriend.

They made their own breakfast feast of scrambled eggs and chicken nuggets (Stiles resented the concept of “breakfast foods,” but Derek was staunchly in favour of it, so they compromised. Teddy just liked to eat, full stop.) They toasted each other with ketchup-y chicken and Stiles shuddered dramatically at syrup-covered eggs. (Seriously, who enjoyed that combination? Derek, apparently. The weirdo.)

Early on in their crash course of parenthood, they’d taught Teddy to be okay with them leaving and coming back. They’d had to, since they had responsibilities and projects to take care of. One of the ways Stiles had tackled this was to make saying goodbye a highlight of the day.

“Alright, boys, Daddy’s gotta go and bring home the bacon.” Eddie’s ears perked at Stiles’ words, but he clearly wasn’t holding out a lot of hope, since he didn’t bother to get up from the couch.

“Bye, Dad,” Teddy said. He didn’t get up either, but Stiles couldn’t blame him. Derek’s lap was surprisingly comfortable.

Stiles picked up his briefcase (He owned a _briefcase_. What was his life?) and pecked Teddy on the cheek. “Kiss for Teddy.” Next, he dropped one on Eddie’s fuzzy head. “Kiss for Eddie.” Derek’s kiss was longer. Much longer. “Kiss for Daddy.”

“All done!”

“You’re quite right, Theodore. I am, in fact, all done. Love you guys.” Stiles grabbed his jacket and opened the door. When he was almost through, he looked back. “I mean it. I love you.”

“Love you, Daddy! Bye!”

Stiles walked to the end of the driveway and paused, counting the seconds until he reached about 15. Then, he wheeled around and went back inside.

“Ugh, silly me!” He said. “I forgot my phone.”

Teddy laughed and scolded him, “Daddy!”

“I know, I know, I’m not a very responsible adult. Sue me.” He yanked his phone from the charger in the kitchen and started the whole routine again. “Kiss for Teddy. Kiss for Eddie. Kiss for Daddy. Love you.”

“Love you, bye!”

Again, he was out the door. This time, he waited a good 30 seconds before going back in. “Guys, you’re never gonna believe this. I forgot my lunch.”

Teddy laughed even harder, all the way through his kiss, Ed’s kiss and Derek’s extended smooch.

“Okay, for real this time, I have to go. Love you.”

“Bye bye bye!”

Stiles waited outside the door for a full minute, checking his watch to make sure he was still on time. This was why he always planned to leave 15 minutes before he actually had to.

Stiles opened the door one last time and let his briefcase thump to the floor. (Just because he owned one didn’t mean he needed to take care of it.) “Guys. I can’t believe you let me walk out that door. I forgot the most important thing.”

“What?” Teddy asked, through his giggles.

“I forgot to say ‘I love you!’”

Stiles really couldn’t have found a better audience for his particular brand of humour. Teddy fell off Derek’s lap onto the couch cushion, he laughed so hard, narrowly avoiding squishing Ed, who was still miffed about the lack of bacon. 

“No!” Teddy said, when he caught his breath.

“No? I didn’t say it?”

“No, you did!”

“I did?” Stiles gasped and shook his head decisively. “No way. I would have remembered that.”

“Yes, yes, you did!” Teddy insisted.

Derek nodded sagely. “He’s right, you did.”

“Well, how about that.” Stiles scratched his head, mystified, and Teddy dissolved into laughter once again.

Stiles scooped him up and sat down on the couch with him in his arms, unconcerned about the blond dog hairs that were now riddling his black-jeans-masquerading-as-work-pants. He really did have to go soon if he was going to get to City Hall before noon, but he had time for one more round of kisses and I love yous.


	5. Chapter 5

The happy, mellow day after the full moon turned out to be the calm before the storm. And it was a hell of a storm. Over the course of three nights, Teddy’s nightmares increased from once a night to three, four or five times. Every time, he’d wake up screaming and crying, needing to be held and comforted back to sleep. The fourth night after the moon, they were woken up six separate times. On the seventh, from 10PM until 4 AM, they were up every hour.

Having skipped Teddy’s infancy, Derek and Stiles were not prepared for that kind of sleep deprivation. They’d been walking around like zombies, trying to function normally. Derek had two projects that needed to be shipped out by the next week, and Stiles’s next meeting at City Hall loomed in the future as his research stalled.

But they were coping. They were fine. They’d signed on for Teddy, for better or for worse, and they’d known it wouldn’t be easy. They were fortunate, they knew, that Teddy was typically so easygoing, but it made times like this even tougher.

Teddy had been a holy terror all day. Not listening, crying and yelling when he’d been interrupted for lunch. Every tiny thing had been a battle. And forget the toilet training. They’d had to put Teddy in pull-ups. It felt like a huge setback.

Stiles didn’t like setting Teddy down in front of a TV show with a bunch of Lego and not interacting with him at all, but ignoring each other for a couple of hours was probably what they both needed. Stiles put a load of laundry in, did some damage control in the kitchen, took the garbage out, then collapsed on the couch behind Teddy. It felt like he’d barely made a dent in his To Do List, and he was already exhausted. He let his head fall back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. He just needed to zone out for a minute, then he’d power through. In just a couple more minutes.

**

Stiles came awake slowly. His head was pounding and his neck twinged when he tried to lift it. He peeled open his eyes and could barely focus them.

“‘Timezit?” He slurred, struggling to remember the last thing he’d done before he’d fallen asleep. His whole body jerked when his knee was given a firm nudge. Eddie was sitting at his feet, and Stiles’ pant leg was covered in small damp spots, so that probably hadn’t been Eddie’s first attempt to wake him up.

Eddie whined, and his mouth stretched open in a nervous yawn. Stiles mashed a hand across his face, trying to wake himself up. It was probably Ed’s dinner time. The dog had an internal clock that was astoundingly accurate. Eddie gave his thigh another hard poke and grumbled.

“Come on, Ed, lemme wake up first.” Stiles stood up with tremendous effort, stretching hard enough that he was treated to a symphony of cracking joints. No more couch naps for him, apparently. Eddie whined again, an anxious sound that made Stiles frown down at him. “What’s up, buddy? You need to go outside?”

A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he blinked past the blurriness and the headache. It was the cycling DVD menu screen of the movie he’d put on for Teddy. His breath was choked off by sudden panic and he automatically looked toward the only part of their house that had ever made him worry about Teddy’s safety.

Teddy had pushed the heavy, awkward workshop door open about a foot and a half and was working on more. Stiles shouted his name, already vaulting over the couch to stop him, but when Teddy whipped his head around at his name, he lost his balance. His meager weight pushed the door open farther, and his body kept pitching forward, closer to the 18 steep steps that went down.

In that millisecond, every agonizing part of Teddy’s fall, death and funeral played out in Stiles’ mind. Maybe an adult werewolf could survive a broken spinal cord, but not one as small as Teddy. Stiles was sure that by the next moment he would no longer be a father. His broken cry was already in his throat when he saw Teddy tumble off the first step, only to be caught around the chest by Derek and lifted up to safety.

Stiles fell to the floor a few feet away from the door, a sob tearing out of him as he crawled the rest of the way over to where Derek had set Teddy on his feet and was checking him for injuries.

“Teddy!” Stiles shouted, grabbing his son by the shoulders and turning him roughly. Too rough, way too rough, but he couldn’t stop it. His heart was pounding so loud in his ears he could barely hear how loud he was. “Why would you do that? You don’t touch this door, you know that!”

Teddy burst into tears and squirmed out of Stiles’ grip, throwing his arms around Derek’s chest.

“What happened?” Derek demanded, his eyes flashing blue. Stiles could hear the tinny music coming from the earbuds tangled at Derek’s neck. “Why weren’t you watching him?”

All the adrenaline that Teddy’s close brush with injury had pumped into his veins surged and turned to red hot anger. “You promised me, Derek! You swore to me that he wouldn’t be strong enough to get that door open. Not for _years_ , you said.” Stiles himself could barely budge it. They’d put it off for more pressing childproofing.

“I didn’t know he could,” Derek said, raising his voice over Teddy’s crying. “You should have been watching him, where were you?”

“I feel asleep! I just sat down for a minute. I thought he was safe, I didn’t know we were living with a death trap in our kitchen.”

“It wouldn’t have been an issue if you hadn’t been ignoring him!”

“I can’t watch him every second of every day, you asshole!”

“That isn’t--”

Teddy let out a piercing shriek and Stiles winced with his whole body. His head was still splitting.

“Hush, Ted,” Stiles snapped, pointing his finger harshly in his face. Teddy batted Stiles’ hand away, a petulant shove with barely any force behind it, but his claws were out and when Stiles jerked his hand away in pain, there were two long, shallow cuts in the base of his thumb.

There was a charged moment of silence as the three of them watched the blood well up, enough that a drop spilled into the palm of Stiles’ hand. Teddy started crying again, long, heaving wails that drilled into Stiles’ ears and made his headache spike. Stiles brought his hand to his chest so Teddy couldn’t see, but the smell of copper was thick, even to Stiles’ human nose.

“I…” Stiles started, but he lost the words and had to start over. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” Derek tried to reach for Stiles’ hand, but Stiles leaned away at the same moment that Teddy grabbed Derek’s arm and pulled it back in. “Don’t leave right now, I--”

“No, I need to go.” Stiles nodded, and felt like he’d lost control of his neck, because he kept nodding like a bobble head as he stood up clumsily, almost knocking into the wall.

Teddy’s sobs got louder as Stiles got closer to the front door, and hard enough that Stiles was worried Teddy would puke if he didn’t stop soon. But he didn’t turn around. He walked out of the house and nearly fell off the front steps, his legs were shaking so badly.

He sat in the car, completely numb, for a minute, then two, then five. Even through the car window and the wall of the house, he could hear Teddy’s screams. Teddy never made noises like that. Never. All Stiles could think was _I did that_. It’s my fault.

Derek was right. He should have been watching. It was so stupid of him to sit down and close his eyes when he _knew_ he was sleep deprived. And to yell at Derek like that? And to scold Ted so harshly? Teddy _never_ screamed. It was Stiles’ fault.

He barely remembered the drive to his dad’s. He recalled thinking Derek wouldn’t like it if Stiles got blood on the Camaro’s steering wheel, so he shoved a McDonald’s napkin under his palm. The cuts stung and the drying blood made his skin feel tight and wrinkled, but Stiles ignored it. It was his fault that he’d gotten them anyway.

Thankfully, the spare key was on the top of the door frame like usual, since Stiles had only grabbed the key to the Camaro, not his house keys. Or his wallet. Or real clothes. He was still in his pajamas, he realized.

He closed the door behind him and stood in the entryway for a while, because it suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea what to do now. He’d run away like a child back to his dad, who wasn’t even home to kick him out.

He shambled over to the kitchen table and sat down heavily in one of the same chairs he’d used back when his feet barely touched the floor. He let his head fall into his hands, unmindful of the blood soaking through the scratchy napkin caught between his palm and his cheekbone. Only then did he start to cry. Huge, painful sobs that shook his shoulders and made his chest and stomach sore.

Every time he tried to pull himself together and wipe the snot and salt water from his face, he remembered the brief glimpse he’d caught of Teddy’s face as he left the house. He’d recall Teddy’s ruddy cheeks and bitten red lips, and his eyes, wide with betrayal. And Stiles would set himself off again.

When he finally stopped, the bottom of his T-shirt was soaked, and his eyes were throbbing and gritty. He sat in the quiet kitchen as the sun went down, but he didn’t turn on a light. The cut on his hand had long stopped oozing, and the crust of dried blood flaked to the table every time he moved his hand even a little bit.

He still didn’t move when he heard the sound of a key scraping in the lock and quickly being pulled out again as his dad realized that it was already open. Stiles vaguely remembers parking way up the street because there wasn’t any spaces outside of the house.

“Stiles?” His dad called, then he flicked on the kitchen light and pulled up a chair up close while Stiles’ eyes stung and adjusted to change. “Where’s Derek? Is Teddy okay?”

Stiles could see and hear the rising panic, so he cleared his throat the best he could and said, “Yeah, he’s fine, I just...I needed to get out of there.”

“What happened? Is that blood?”

Stiles wiped the spot on his face his dad was staring at, hopefully removing the smear he must have left when he was trying to clean his nose. His dad was waiting for an answer, but all Stiles could do was turn in his chair and lean forward until he was clinging on tight, and his dad was hugging him back.

Stiles was all out of tears, but he took in deep, rushed breaths of his dad’s familiar laundry soap and Old Spice scent. His dad rubbed his back and shushed him, calming him down before he started to hyperventilate. Stiles held him tighter, burrowed closer, and hoped his own son was taking as much comfort in his dad as he was.

**

It took a while to get the full story out. He started with the nightmares, and the sleepless nights. The Sheriff knew Teddy hadn’t been sleeping well, but he hadn’t known how bad it had gotten this week, because Stiles and Derek had kept it to themselves, so they didn’t worry anyone. They’d thought it would pass and there was no sense in getting anyone riled up.

Stiles stumbled through the next part--falling asleep when he was supposed to be watching Teddy--and waited for the understanding in his dad’s eyes to turn to judgement. It never did. Stiles petered out after he told his dad about the accidental cuts, and leaving Derek and Teddy alone at home.

“...and now I’m here.” Stiles leaned forward on his elbows, staring down at the surface of the table, trying not to blink too hard, because he could see Teddy pitching forward into the abyss every time he closed his eyes. “I’m a terrible parent, aren’t I?”

The Sheriff didn't say anything right away. Stiles distracted himself from the damning silence by poking at the blood hot edges of his cuts, until his dad’s hand came down on top of them, obscuring the wound and stilling his fingers.

The Sheriff took Stiles’ injured hand in both of his. Stiles still remembered when his hand wasn’t as big as his dad’s and how much he’d wanted to be big and strong with capable fingers like his dad.

“Stiles. When you were about six or seven, your mother was starting to go into the hospital for longer periods of time. It was an adjustment. I was still a deputy and I had paperwork that piled up when I was visiting her and taking care of you.” Stiles involuntarily looked down at the floor and tried to pull his hand away, but his dad tightened his grip. “I never minded it. I knew what I’d signed on for, and I loved both of you. But there was this one day, early on. You were so curious, even then. Especially then. Every 15 minutes, you’d come into my office and ask me what I was doing, as if it had changed since the last time you asked. I was tired that day, grouchy from a long shift. The next time you came in, I yelled at you, said that if you weren’t bleeding, then I didn’t want to see you for at least an hour.”

Stiles couldn’t keep his eyebrows from popping up. His dad had been a model of patience since he could remember. He was firm, and didn’t put up with Stiles’ bullshit, but he’d very rarely snapped when Stiles hadn’t been completely deserving. The Sheriff winced.

“Harsh, I know,” he said, chagrined. “I was so focused on getting my work done that I didn’t even realize how odd it was that you’d actually listened to me. After I was finished, I came out to the living room and you were sitting on the couch, crying quieter than you ever were. That’s when I knew something had to be wrong. It turned out you’d been trying to reach the peanut butter on the top shelf and you fell off the stool and sprained your arm. You’d tried to come and tell me and I shouted at you. You weren’t bleeding, so you just sat there with your sprained arm until I was finished.”

Stiles huffed incredulously. Of all the instructions for his past self to actually follow. He’d sprained his arm as an adult, and it had hurt like hell. He was actually pretty impressed with younger Stiles’ pain tolerance.

The Sheriff shook his head at the memory. “It wasn’t a bad one, and you were healed up in a couple of weeks. You barely remembered it. But I felt like the scum of the earth the whole time you had the brace on. Claudia had to talk me down from turning myself in for child abuse.”

Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but his dad held a hand up. “I know. I didn’t do it on purpose, but at the time, I was certain that I wasn’t fit to care for a kid. But then Claudia reminded me of the time you were four and you got that scar on your ankle because she said her angel food cake made people feel as light as a feather, and you took that literally.”

It had taken them a long time to be able to laugh when they talked about Claudia. The hole she’d left in their hearts had been filled in somewhat with new love, and it didn’t burn so harshly, but was still a bittersweet happiness.

The Sheriff squeezed Stiles’ hand one more time, then let it go and leaned on the table, staring into the middle distance where he could probably see her bustling around the kitchen, whipping egg whites and sugar. “She was the best mom ever. If she could make mistakes, then I figured I could too, and still be a half decent dad. Accidents happen. You and Derek and Teddy should learn from them, and move on. You’re not a bad parent, Stiles. Far from it.”

When Stiles had sat down at the table, he hadn’t been sure there was anything his dad could say that would make things right, but he did feel better. However, no longer thinking he was the worst dad in the universe didn’t solve his other issues. Teddy was still dealing the nightmares. Stiles and Derek were still sleep-deprived from waking up with him.

“What should I do? Stiles asked. He was through with keeping his problems to himself. It hadn’t helped any of them, and it had almost harmed someone. “Teddy isn’t getting any better. He’s just getting worse.”

“You had nightmares when you were a kid, you know.”

He’d had a recurring dream where he was lost in the empty hospital, looking for his mom. He’d never found her. It still came back every once in awhile, but these days, he usually found some monstrous creature instead.

“You’d wake up screaming, and you couldn’t go back to sleep. You’d just stay up until it was time for school. You had tote bags under your eyes for a good five months after your mother passed. You hated being alone. Your grades dropped. I tried to talk to you, but I was so deep in my own grief that I didn’t know how to help.”

“How did you fix it?”

The Sheriff snorted, and shook his head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“What?”

“I took you to someone who could help you where I couldn’t. You remember Dr. Trudy?”

Stiles did remember her. His grief therapist had been a kind older lady who reminded him of what he thought his grandmother would have been like if he had one. He’d left her office every week with a cookie and the feeling that everything was going to be better. He’d complained bitterly every time he’d been made to go, but it had helped. But Stiles had always found it easy to talk to people. Teddy wasn’t afraid of strangers, but would talking to someone really be something he needed when he found it so difficult?

His dad must have seen the doubt in his eyes, because he put a steadying hand on Stiles’ shoulder and said, firmly, “Stiles, all you can do is keep loving him like you have been. Sometimes kids need help you can’t give them, no matter how much you want to. You haven’t done anything wrong. It took Melissa whacking me upside the head with one of your school books to get me to call that therapist’s number.”

Stiles slumped a little bit more in his chair. “You’re probably right. I’ll bring it up with Derek tomorrow.”

That was another thing he had to worry about. He and Derek were solid, but they’d each had some pretty nasty things to say to each other. Stiles had no idea how mad Derek was at him for leaving. He was dreading that conversation so much.

“Come on, kiddo,” his dad said, with a gentle clap on Stiles’ back. “Go upstairs, put a bandaid on those cuts and get some sleep. You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks, Dad.” He said it with a fake offended tone, but his father took it the way he meant it. Sincerely.

“No problem.” The Sheriff ruffled Stiles’ hair and wandered towards the living room to watch the game he’d DVR’d. 

Stiles stood up from the table and his stomach rumbled. He realized abruptly that he hadn’t eaten in hours. He ate a bowl of corn flakes standing up at the kitchen counter, then cleaned out the wounds with stinging antiseptic.

He was out within seconds of hitting the pillow, and the last thing he saw was Teddy’s trembling lip in a slideshow of everything he’d fucked up that day.

**

Stiles woke up and it took him a long moment to recognize the familiar ceiling of his childhood bedroom. He’d packed away most of the personal things that had adorned the walls and the dresser, and it was mostly just a guest room now, but they could never remove the stain in the shape of a dick right above his head. That stain had been the source of a lot of questions in his teen years.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side, but didn’t get up. The clock on the nightstand told him that it was almost noon. He took a moment to feel guilty that he felt more rested than he had in weeks, then shoved those feelings aside. He didn’t have time for them. His phone had fallen out of the pocket of his PJs while he slept, so it took him a bit to find it under the pile of sheets and blankets. He was just thankful that it had already been on him when he left the house yesterday. 

The battery was at 20%, but he tapped Derek’s number anyway. His palms started to sweat while he listened to the phone dial out.

“Hello.”

His tense shoulders sagged in relief that at least Derek had answered, then seized up again because they still had to have this tough conversation. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m at my dad’s.”

“I know. He texted me.”

“Oh. Good. I’m glad you didn’t worry.” Stiles winced, because _fuck_ , that sounded passive aggressive, then he blurted, “I’m sorry. For running out on you. And for everything I said. Shit, I don’t even remember half of it.”

“It’s okay.” Stiles had to press the phone right against his ear to hear Derek’s soft voice. “I’m sorry too. I got Boyd to drop off a heavy duty lock from the hardware store. I put it on the door last night after Ted went to sleep.”

Stiles huffed a short laugh, and a terrified part of him eased a little. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s fine. I got him calmed down pretty quickly after you left. He was tuckered out. He missed you.”

“Did he sleep through the night?”

There was a short silence, like Derek was considering evading the question. “No.”

Stiles had been expecting that answer, but he was still disappointed to hear it. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he said again.

“It’s alright, honestly. You needed it. There’s no sense in both of us being dead on our feet.” Derek hesitated. “If you don’t mind, I might spend the night at Isaac’s place tomorrow, just to reset. But I want to see you first.”

Stiles blew out a slow breath, ignoring the buzz of the phone speaker in his ear. “Okay. I’m going to stay here for a couple more hours. Get my head on straight. Then I’ll come home.”

“Alright.” There was a beat where Stiles wasn’t sure if he should hang up. Or if he wanted to. “Teddy wasn’t the only one who missed you, you know.”

“Missed you too.”

“I meant Eddie. He’s been moping all morning.”

Stiles laughed and for the first time in almost 24 hours it didn’t feel brittle or false. “You’re such a dick.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah.” He really did.

“Love you too.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Stiles tossed his phone on the bed. He was going to take a shower, a long one, with no fear of being interrupted and getting suds in his eyes. He was going to make his dad a healthy lunch, and cut the food into normal shapes, not dinosaurs. Then, he thought he might watch some TV, that didn’t have any anthropomorphic animals or singing.

Then, he’d go home. To the grumpy Sourwolf he shared a life with, and the sweet little boy who he loved with all his heart. And the leggy blond who got his hair on everything and ate his dinner so fast he always choked on it. Couldn’t forget Eddie. No way.

**

A few hours later, he opened the door of his bedroom and looked at his boys having an early nap. Ed had claimed three feet of space at the end of the bed, and Teddy was sprawled out over Stiles’ pillow. Instead of moving Teddy over and flanking him like they usually did, Stiles curled up on Derek’s side.

Just like Stiles had thought, Derek wasn’t asleep. Derek turned over when Stiles laid down, and gathered him up in his arms.

Later, they’d talk about getting Teddy a therapist like Derek’s, who knew about the supernatural. Dr. Archer didn’t typically take on children, but she would know someone who did. They’d probably talk more about the vicious words they’d spewed at each other in anger, and Stiles’ fear that he’d scarred Teddy irreparably.

But it could wait. They had time. For now, they had each other, and the family they’d made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise it gets happier from here!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I’ve never been to therapy, but this is how I imagine a werewolf would help another werewolf heal.

The bench they were sitting on was getting on Stiles’ nerves. The slats were a little too far apart, so his ass felt like it would be permanently lined. It didn’t have a backrest, so he was slumping forward in a way that couldn’t be good for his spine. There was also this stupid railing right in the middle that made it so that a bench that could comfortably seat three was forced to only seat two with a ton of room on either side of each person. It was unbelievably stupid, and Stiles was so stressed about it, because it was pretty much the worst bench to ever exist.

Or maybe, he was just on edge about the fact that Teddy was inside the therapist’s office and he and Derek were stuck out here on a bench in the middle of a tiny park in Redding.

The past week hadn’t been as bad as the one before. They’d come up with a schedule to make sure they both got enough sleep, and a child therapist who was in the supernatural know had made room for them today. It had been a last minute cancellation thing, so they’d all loaded up--Eddie included--and made the hour long journey with just enough time to spare. 

Sessions are short with kids, the receptionist told them, but they’d have at least 20 mins to kill before they’d be done. The office would call the cellphone number on file if there was any problems, she’d said, a firm, inarguable dismissal. Derek and Stiles had left, dazed by her aura of fierce competence. 

Neither of them could contemplate getting a bite to eat, or even going more than a couple of blocks away, so the park across the street from the building was their best option. They’d even retrieved Eddie from the car to keep them company.

Stiles was losing it. He stood up from the bench and started pacing in the dry, packed earth and lackluster grass in front of it. Derek kept on sitting, clenching his fist around Eddie’s leash. Stiles was so distracted by his own worry that it took him a while to realize that Ed was panting so hard he could hear it from the farthest point of his pacing, 10 feet away.

It was a cool day, and they were sitting in the shade. Eddie hadn’t had a long run yet, since they were saving it for when Ted could join in. Ed was just so in tune with their moods that he knew they were stressing about something, and that meant he had to stress too.

“Oh, buddy,” Stiles said, and sat on the bench next to Derek, with the goddamn metal railing between them. He took Eddie’s big head in his hands and stroked the soft fur, letting the downy fuzz on Ed’s ears soothe him.

“We’re being ridiculous, aren’t we?” Stiles asked Ed.

Derek snorted and ran a hand down the dog’s back. “Probably.” 

Ed just smiled, his tongue lolling as he looked up at them both. It was nice of him not to judge. They spend the next ten minutes until the appointment time was up scratching Ed into a complete jellified mess, spread out on his back at their feet.

**

Teddy was all smiles when he came out of the office, to Stiles’ relief. He waved to all the office staff on his way out, and Stiles could even see the front desk administrator’s heart soften just a little bit. That was his Teddy, Stiles thought, proudly. He could charm anyone.

They went back to the deserted park, let Eddie off his leash and tossed a ball for him, enjoying the mild weather and the sound of Ted having fun, but the sun was starting to go down and they headed back to Beacon Hills soon after.

Boy and dog were asleep in the back seat within minutes.

**

Stiles and Derek were invited to some of Teddy’s sessions after the first one. The therapist, “Call me Dan,” got them to crawl around on the floor with Teddy, growling and tackling each other like wolves. It felt silly at first, but once they got over themselves, it was pure fun. Stiles had to be a bit more careful, since claws would come out if it got really exciting, but he didn’t mind. He would have bowed out completely if he could just be a fly on the wall.

Dan, a werewolf himself, gave them a bunch of story books that featured families of wolves, complete with cubs, and spoke to Teddy during their one-on-one sessions about his fears and anxieties about changing. He also helped Teddy find his words, even when he was nervous, by having him hum or sing Derek’s mother’s lullabye to himself whenever he lost them. He knew it so well, and found it so comforting that no fear or shyness could take those words away. Once Teddy realized that he could vocalize the song, he had a much easier time telling his parents what he needed.

The first time Teddy woke up from a nightmare and told them, firmly, that he wanted to go outside for a minute and run around, just to make sure he could, they were so shocked that they gaped at him for long enough that he had to repeat the request. Dan had told them that he might need to do something like that, that they’d been working on making sure Teddy knew he had ways to remind himself that the dreams were only memories, and he was in a better place now. Once, they had an unhealthy midnight snack. Another time, they borrowed Eddie’s collar to remember what it felt like, and how nice it was that he didn’t have to wear one anymore. (Stiles didn’t put the collar back on Eddie for a little while after that. It didn’t feel right.)

The change in Teddy was remarkable, and quicker than they’d dared to hope. He started sleeping through the night, and seeking out Derek and other pack members’ eyes to flash yellow at them. He smiled and laughed when Natalie accidentally went to full wolf form on a play date.

When the full moon rolled around, they volunteered to take another turn, and Teddy ran as a wolf beside his dad, his alpha and his pack. Stiles watched them disappear into the trees, and hummed the Hale’s lullabye until they came back.

**

The day after the full moon, when everyone had gone home, Stiles put Teddy down for a well-deserved nap, and came back to the kitchen to find Derek sitting at the table, sifting through a bunch of official-looking papers. Stiles sat down next to him, and recognized the file folder they’d come from, the one that usually stayed locked in a drawer in the living room, where Derek could forget it existed.

The Hales had been a wealthy family. Old money, wisely invested and seldom spent on luxuries. Derek’s parents, as well as his aunt and uncle on his father’s side, had created individual trust funds for all the kids in the family, that could be accessed at age 18. Only Laura, Derek and Cora had reached their majority. As the eldest living Hale, Derek had control of what was left of Laura’s trust after it had been used to keep a roof over their head in New York when times were at their toughest. Cora had spent part of hers to set herself up comfortably in South America, and invested the rest. The last they’d heard about it, she was making a decent amount from her predictions.

Derek’s own money, a sizeable pile that he didn’t touch in all the years after he’d reached 18, had been spent on their house. Before Teddy, they were doing great, with two incomes and no dependants, but they hadn’t wanted a mortgage hanging over their heads, so they’d purchased the little house with the massive backyard in one go. It had been perfect for just the two of them, with enough space for the pack to spill out onto the porch and the lawn, but small enough that they were in each other’s pockets, just how they liked. They’d never regretted it.

Derek also had control of his younger brother’s money. Kyle, who’d been just 12 when the fire had killed them. His two cousins’ trusts were also his to monitor and use at his discretion. Not to mention the money paid out by the fire insurance company when their house had burned to the ground.

It wasn’t a huge leap for Stiles to figure out what Derek was doing looking through these papers. They’d talked about expanding the house before. They had plenty of property, and it would be nice to make room for more kids. More pets, pack nights, sleepovers with friends. They’d decided that it would cost more than either of them were comfortable with, given their reduced incomes. Stiles had made a joke about how boring and adult they were, discussing their finances, and they’d dropped the subject.

The concept of delving into the Hale Family money had never been brought up, though it had hovered over the conversation like a spectre. They weren’t in a position to fund an expansion on their own, but with the hundreds of thousands of dollars Derek had from the fire insurance and the trust funds, (Not to mention Peter’s liquified assets inherited after his “death” and kept as a punishment for being a psychotic, undead dick) they could have enough room to give Teddy five siblings and be well within the black.

Stiles moved his chair closer and smoothed an arm across Derek’s shoulder, feeling the rock hard tension there. He rested his chin on Derek’s shoulder and said the only thing that he thought might release that tension.

“I know that you think this is blood money. You’re probably right. That doesn’t mean that your family wouldn’t want you to use it to give your new family the best home they could ask for. Do you think your parents would begrudge you spending it on a bigger room for Teddy, once he stops sleeping in ours? Or a higher fence in the backyard so that the pack can be themselves completely without fear? Look me in the eye and tell me that Laura wouldn’t love the thought of spending Peter’s money on expansions of a house he’s not invited to.”

Derek let out a small, hesitant laugh. More of a breath, really, but it was something. He dropped the bank statement he was holding and put his hand under the one Stiles had on his shoulder. Stiles gripped it tight, and finished saying his piece.

“I’m not saying that I want you to do this. I’m fine with how things are. I just don’t want the reason you decide _not_ to do this to be the fear that they’d be angry with you. You know that’s not true.” It was so subtle, Stiles wasn’t sure if Derek had actually nodded, or if he’d just imagined it. “Well. Maybe Peter would be mad. But fuck him.”

Derek laughed again, a real one this time, then turned in his chair to kiss Stiles with a smile on his lips. “I’ll call a contractor tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Teddy's first sleepover at Scott's, and Stiles and Derek have a night to themselves...This is where the mature rating comes in :P


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herein lies Bow Chicka Wow Wow. Also some bad language.

Stiles tightened his tie in the mirror and hoped he didn’t look too much like he was wearing his dad’s suit. He _was_ wearing his dad’s suit, but it was gently used, and it fit surprisingly well. It was a shame about the sleeves, though. Nothing made him feel more like a little kid playing dress-up than sleeves that fell over his wrists. But, of course, he’d forgotten to have the suit tailored, so he only had himself to blame.

Derek, of course, looked impeccable. Stiles smiled at his reflection in the mirror. The ill-fitting suit didn’t bother him too much, because he knew that he was going to have the most attractive plus one in the whole place.

“You ready?” Derek said, behind him, his tie perfectly knotted and the collar of his white shirt still perfectly crisp.

“Yeah, just a second.” Stiles struggled with his tie a moment longer, in a last ditch effort to find that place between choking to death and looking sloppy. It was no use, so he left it on the sloppy side and hoped no one would notice. He was supposed to be the wacky librarian type anyway. He didn’t think anyone at the gala was expecting him to be anything less than eccentrically dressed.

“I’ll meet you in the car,” Derek said.

“No, wait, I’m ready.” Stiles turned away from the mirror and spread his arms to the side. “How do I look?”

Derek stepped closer, a contemplative look on his face. Then, he reached out and tightened Stiles’ tie, finding the exact in-between spot Stiles had been looking for. In one go. “Perfect.”

Stiles grinned and followed Derek down the stairs. When they got in the car, Derek raised an eyebrow at the apple Stiles had grabbed from the kitchen counter and was holding in his teeth while he did up his seat belt.

“What?” Stiles said, defensively, around a giant bite of Granny Smith. “You never know how much food they’re going to have at these things. Their version of ‘refreshments’ could be a bag of baby carrots and some salt.”

“Or, it could be fully catered. Like you told me it would be.”

“Yeah, or that. I just don’t want to take any chances. You know how I get when I haven’t eaten in a few hours.”

“Yes, I do. Eat your apple, Stiles. It’s probably best for all of us.”

“Exactly.”

Derek pulled out of the driveway and started the short trip to City Hall. Stiles finished his apple in record time, and when they found a parking space, he took out his phone and his finger hovered over Scott’s number.

“Don’t do it.”

Stiles looked up, trying not to look guilty. “Do what?”

“Call Scott. He texted half an hour ago, and Teddy is fine. He loves playing with Nat.”

“I know. I just...It’s his first sleepover, I don’t want him to think we aren’t concerned about him.” Stiles managed to keep his eyes on his phone for the first ten seconds of silence, but eventually, he couldn’t resist meeting Derek’s skeptical expression. “Okay, fine. I miss him. Or, I’m starting to miss him in preparation for _actually_ missing him once he’s been gone for more than two hours.”

Derek’s face softened into an indulgent smile. “That’s fair. You still shouldn’t text Scott.

“You sure? What about Kira?”

“No.”

“I could persuade my dad to go for an impromptu visit to their house and report back to me.”

“No.” Derek reached across the console and took Stiles’ free hand. “Put your phone away, then we can go inside and you can show me off to all your direct superiors. You know you want to.”

Stiles nodded firmly, and tucked his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket, where he was sure he would feel it, should it happen to vibrate. “You’re right. I have some gloating to do, and you have to get ready to do what you do best.”

“Construct livable and aesthetic one of a kind furniture from sustainable materials at a reasonable price?”

“Look pretty.”

“Ah. Let’s get it over with, then.”

**

The event was fine. It could have been worse. According to Janice from the Planning Committee, they managed to raise enough money to make the benefit well worth it, so that was good.

Stiles needn’t have worried about the food. The canapes were small and boring, but plentiful, and less than an hour after they arrived, Stiles swore that he’d never eat another shrimp puff ever again. After just one more.

The live music was loud, but not awful. There were plenty of people who worked at City Hall or at the library that he didn’t mind talking to about their kids or the new deck they’d put in last summer. He got to ogle Derek in slacks, which didn’t happen very often.

But when the thank you speeches started and the sound system squealed with feedback for the third time, he looked around the crowded room and tried to calculate how quickly they could get to the door without someone noticing their exit and asking him to explain his project on how the Beacon Hills Nature Preserve had shaped the economical and cultural landscape of its city. He loved talking about it, but having to explain what a cultural landscape was to someone from accounting got old, even for him.

They were standing right at the back of the hall, so if they were quiet about it, the only people that would see them sneaking out would be the ones right by the door. He craned his neck to check the entrance to see how implausible his plan was, and saw Joan from the Mayor’s reception office. She winked unsubtly when she caught his eye, then mouthed all clear. Stiles gave her a thumbs up and led Derek by the wrist to the wide-open double doors between them and freedom.

“Thanks, Joan,” he whispered as he went by. She was a doll. A grandmother on the cusp of retirement, who always wanted to hear how Teddy was doing when he came by her office. Her reassurances and years of experience had gone a long way toward convincing Stiles that Ted was ready for his first overnight at Scott’s.

“You enjoy your night, honey, for all of us who are stuck here in uncomfortable shoes.”

“I will.”

They were out into the fresh air in under a minute, and Stiles felt giddy at their daring escape. They took their time finding the car, meandering over the damp lawn and sprinting out of the way when a sprinkler went off. When they got to the car, Derek stopped him before he could get in on the passenger side and pressed him up against the car, kissing him long and slow, until they were both out of breath.

Somebody on a smoke break whistled at them and they took that as their cue to go home.

**

The ties came off as soon as Stiles and Derek were in the door, and the jackets followed quickly. That was as far as they got, since they distracted themselves with another lengthy kiss up against the side of the couch. Stiles had just managed to concentrate long enough to pop the button on Derek’s pants when the little pile of clothes at their feet started to moo. They both jumped and looked down, and realized it was Stiles’ phone vibrating on the hardwood.

Stiles dug through the the fabric to reach his pocket, his heart pounding the whole time. He imagined Scott telling him Teddy had gotten sick, or hurt, or that he was crying his eyes out. Stiles was prepared for the worst when he finally found the phone and answered it.

“Scott? Is everything alright?”

“Hi Daddy!”

Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief, and heard an identical one above him from Derek. Stiles sat on the floor with his back against the couch, his legs sprawled in front of him, and Derek immediately joined him. “Hey, Teddy Bear. How’s it going?”

“Good! Nat has playdough.”

Teddy also had playdough, a huge box of it. That didn’t seem to take away from the awesomeness of _Nat’s_ playdough. He told Stiles and Derek all about the things they’d made, and the bath they’d had after, since they were “unbelievably messy.” (Stiles assumed this was Teddy paraphrasing Scott or Kira.) Teddy and Natalie were both in bed now.

“Wow,” Stiles said after the grand story was finished. “Sounds like you had quite a day.”

“Yep.” 

“Is Uncle Scott there with you?”

“Yep.”

“Okay. Tell him he’s a poopy-head.”

“Uncle Scott, you’re a--Daddy!”

“Almost gotcha.” Stiles could hear Scott and Kira cracking up in the background. He also heard Teddy give a long yawn. Stiles wasn’t sure what the time actually was, but it had to be way past Ted’s normal bedtime. “Sounds like you’re sleepy, Mr. T.”

“Yeah. Aunt Kira read The Lonely Goat.”

“She’s the best. Must be time to say goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Daddy. Is Derek Daddy there?”

“He sure is,” Stiles gave the phone to Derek, who put it on speaker. Teddy said goodnight again to Derek, so softly, Stiles could barely hear it. He could picture Teddy’s eyes blinking slower and slower.

“Night, baby,” Derek said, and there was a clatter and a long silence, then Scott’s voice came on the line.

“You still there?”

“Yes,” Derek answered. “He seems like he had fun. Thank you.”

“No trouble at all. He was good as gold. He might want to call you in the morning, but you can pick him up any time after 9 o’clock. Not that I think you’ll be anywhere but in bed at that time.”

Derek said nothing, Stiles snorted, then Scott gasped, horrified.

“No! I meant that you’ll want to sleep in, because you don’t have to wake up for Ted. Ugh, get your minds out of the gutter.”

Stiles couldn’t stop laughing long enough make fun of him, so Scott just growled exasperatedly and hung up. Derek handed Stiles his phone back, and he tucked it in his pants pocket.

“It was nice of him to let Teddy use his phone,” Derek said.

“Yeah. Melissa always made sure I called my dad at the station when I was a kid. Those calls usually devolved into fart noises within a few minutes, but her intentions were good.”

Derek laughed, and the corners of his eyes crinkled up a just a tiny bit, in the werewolf equivalent of deep, permanent lines. Stiles loved those crow’s feet. He loved watching them grow year by year and knowing that, despite all the hell they’d gone through, those wrinkles Derek was nursing were from happiness.

Stiles leaned in, kissed Derek’s temple, and murmured, “I think we were in the middle of something.”

“I think you’re right.” Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist and hauled him into his lap, so quickly that Stiles made a loud surprised noise before he balanced himself. He was past self-consciousness, though, since Derek had heard every squeal, squawk and sputter Stiles had to offer, so he didn’t waste any time in lowering his mouth to Derek’s and picking up where they left off.

It took tremendous effort to get up off the floor, but Stiles’ neck had started to hurt, and Derek admitted his ass was falling asleep. They even managed to walk sedately most of the way...until Stiles slapped Derek on his pins-and-needly butt at the top of the stairs and Derek had to pin Stiles to the bannister and bite his neck in retribution. Some punishment.

Derek hastily unbuttoned Stiles’ dress shirt to get at more skin, and Stiles took the opportunity to finish undoing Derek’s pants and push them down, along with his boxers, so he could try to massage some feeling back into Derek’s ass. He was such a good boyfriend.

Derek never stopped sucking and nipping at Stiles’ neck the whole time he was taking off Stiles’ shirt, and Stiles wasn’t intending to ask him to stop any time soon. The skin under Derek’s lips was inflamed and sensitive, hot from blood brought to the surface and the scrape of Derek’s almost-beard. He probably should have shaved before he did this, but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“Stiles,” Derek rumbled, eventually, into Stiles’ ear. He shivered, and Derek smoothed his warm hands around to Stiles’ back, under the shirt that was barely hanging onto his shoulders. “Do you want to take this somewhere else?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Stiles panted, and pushed Derek gently away so he could get by. Derek wasn’t expecting this, apparently, and lost his balance, tripping over the last step and taking Stiles with him down to the floor. The whole thing went in such slow motion that neither of them were hurt, but after they landed, Stiles collapsed onto his back, laughing his head off at their clumsiness.

“Oh, man,” he said, once he’d gotten his breath back. “You’d think it’s been years since we did this, instead of a couple months.”

Derek groaned and rolled over on top of him, starting to forge a hot, wet trail down Stiles’ chest. “ _Months_ , Stiles. God, I missed this,” he said, between kisses and nibbles. Stiles hummed when Derek’s tongue traced a line over one of Stiles’ ribs. “Yes, that. I missed that sound in particular.” 

“Stop teasing, Derek, come on,” Stiles begged, as Derek’s mouth moved lower and lower. If they didn’t get up soon, they’d be stuck here for longer than either of their back’s could handle.

“Who’s teasing? I intend to follow through.” Derek gave one last, teasing nip to Stiles’ hip bone, then pulled him right to the edge of the stair and spread Stiles’ legs wide. He made quick work of Stiles’ fly, and pulled his boxers down impatiently.

Stiles was already so hard from the dance they’d been doing all evening that Derek barely had to close his hand around Stiles’ cock before his head was falling back to the floor with a thump. A second later, Stiles felt Derek’s tongue licking a scalding path along the length of the underside, and he couldn’t hold back a whimper.

Derek had the nerve to chuckle darkly.

“Asshole,” Stiles choked, staring hard at the hairline fracture in the plaster above him to keep himself in check.

“Maybe later.”

Stiles laughed at the same time that Derek engulfed the head of his cock in the warm, soft silk of his mouth, and it turned into a broken moan.

Derek was taking his time. Every other chance they’d had to do this had been a stolen moment where they’d had to make every second count. Now, Derek took him in his mouth in slow increments, alternating with little flirty kitten licks and the damp drag of lips getting reacquainted with every inch.

Stiles’ back arched, and his hands scrabbled for purchase on the wooden floor. The zinging pleasure of Derek’s quickening strokes made his toes curl and his breath catch in his chest. The house was quiet, and over the rushing of the blood in his ears, he could hear the slick noises of suction and release.

Stiles groaned, and tried to push Derek’s head away, but his hands were trapped by the cuffs of the dress shirt that was crumpled underneath him. “Ah, stop, stop, stop!” He gasped. “We are going to make it to that damn bedroom, I swear to god.”

Derek helped him stand up, then carefully kicked off the pants and boxers that were still caught around his ankles. Derek’s lips were red, and a little shiny, and Stiles couldn’t help but launch himself at Derek’s mouth again. He backed Derek up to their bedroom door, barely paying attention to Derek opening it and leading them through.

They’d only just crossed the threshold when Derek jumped a foot in the air, and yelled, “Jesus fuck!”

Stiles yelped, “What?” 

Eddie said, _Woof!_

Before they’d left, they’d put Eddie in the bedroom, closing the door so he didn’t get curious about the bag of garbage that was waiting by the back door to be put out on the curb on Monday. He’d been sleeping so deeply that he hadn’t barked while they dawdled their way upstairs, but he’d woken up in time to stick his very cold, very wet nose right into Derek’s naked butt.

Stiles felt bad. Really, he did. He’d gotten a doggy nose to the inner thigh before, and it wasn’t pleasant. But tonight, after so many mishaps and interruptions, Stiles lost it. He laughed so hard that his stomach started to hurt. It wasn’t too far to the ground from his doubled over position, so he gave it up and collapsed on his back on the carpeted floor, still cackling hysterically. Eddie took the opportunity to lick Stiles right in the ear, which Stiles figured was karma, but it was totally worth it. 

While Stiles wiped away tears of mirth and Eddie’s slobber, Derek sighed longsufferingly and put on some sweatpants. “If this is the treatment I’m going to get, I think the dog and I should just go,” he said, over Stiles’ guffaws. 

“Wait, no!” Stiles stretched his arms toward him, making grabby-hands. “Don’t leave me, I love you.”

“Sure you do.” 

“I do, I swear!” He took a deep, tremulous breath, trying to compose himself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just, your _face_ \--” and that was it. He was gone again. 

Derek rolled his eyes skyward, as if asking the crown molding in their bedroom, _Why me?_ Then he crossed his arms, peevishly. The sight of Derek in holey, old sweatpants and an expensive dress-shirt didn’t do anything to get Stiles’ laughter under control. 

Derek gave a short whistle for Ed. “Well, until you locate the only sympathetic bone in your body, Eddie and I will be outside.” 

Stiles struggled to sit up, rubbing his sore abs. “Okay, I’ll work on that. Then, I want two sympathetic bones in my body. One of them being your dick, in case you didn’t catch that incredibly subtle innuendo.” 

“I managed to figure that one out, thanks,” Derek called from the stairs. 

Stiles used the edge of the bed to hoist himself up from the floor, and finally took his pants all the way off. He left his boxers on, but got rid of his socks, because he didn’t care how domestic he and Derek got, the ‘socks with nothing else look’ was massively unsexy. 

Stiles fished his phone out of his pocket before he tossed his pants in the hamper, then spent the rest of his time waiting for Derek by checking Facebook. Kira had posted some photos of Teddy and Nat with playdough in their hair, and Stiles liked every single one. He was just composing a comment and wondering how many heart emojis he could get away with when Derek came back. He shut the door firmly, with Eddie on the other side, and dropped his own clothes on top of Stiles’. 

Stiles was so distracted by Derek’s ass when he bent over that he dropped his phone on his face. Derek just smirked at Stiles’ sore nose, but Stiles took that as his due. Derek got in bed, and neither of them talked for about a minute. The only sound in the house was Eddie’s claws clicking down the stairs to the couch. 

“So, are we going to--”

“Do you still want--” 

They spoke over each other in a perfect rom-com moment, and Stiles loved it. He turned on his side and made a _go on_ gesture.

“Still want to make the most of our free night?” Derek asked. 

Did he ever. “I’m down if you are.”

“Well, technically, I’ve already been down.”

Stiles gasped happily and climbed on top of Derek, kissing him soundly. “My love! You punned! I knew there was a reason I adore you.”

Derek grimaced. “I feel like I should shower. You’ve brought me to your level, and it isn’t a clean feeling.” 

“Maybe later,” Stiles murmured, suggestively. “After you have a _real_ reason to feel unclean.” 

Derek groaned, but Stiles cut him off with a thorough kiss. Unlike all the ones between the car and here, this one was lazy and slow, exploring, just like Derek’s blow job had been. Stiles let his fingers run through Derek’s soft hair, while Derek’s hands caressed Stiles’ sides, stoking the fire under his skin that had been burning since before they’d even left the stuffy party. Their path dipped lower and lower on every pass, until Derek’s fingers were teasing at the edge of Stiles’ hole. 

Stiles broke their kiss with a soft moan, and dove for the lube in the bedside table. While he felt for it in the crowded drawer, Derek stroked his hand from Stiles’ wrist, all the way up his arm, to his shoulder, then placed a gentle kiss on the edge of the bruises forming from his earlier barrage on Stiles’ neck. Stiles writhed under the soft press of his lips, wanting to draw back from the tickling brush, but needing to bare his throat for more. 

Stiles’ hand finally closed around the tube, and he flicked open the cap, then sat back on Derek’s hips. He squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, then leaned forward to start pressing one into himself. He panted into Derek’s mouth while he worked, too overwhelmed for more kissing. Derek was happy to wait, and gazed intently at Stiles’ face while it twisted and scrunched as he drove his fingers deeper. 

He went too fast. It had been so long that it wasn’t as easy as it usually was, and he’d probably be sore tomorrow, but he didn’t care. When he added a third finger, he hissed from the burn, and Derek stilled Stiles’ hand with a loose grip.

“Slow,” Derek murmured. “We have time.”

Derek played with the delicate, sensitized skin of Stiles’ rim while Stiles whimpered and teased himself by slowing his frantic pace. His whole body was burning so hot by the time he took the third finger all the way, he was pretty sure he’d glow in the dark. 

“I’m ready,” he breathed. “Come on, Derek.”

Derek used his strength to hold Stiles up on his shaking legs, so he could lower Stiles down on his cock. Stiles let his head fall back as the familiar sensation of fullness sent a swell of pleasure thrilling up his spine. Stiles started rocking his hips, and Derek tilted his own to just the right angle to make him sob and Derek growl. 

They found their rhythm with the ease of long, diligent practice. Stiles used all the moves he knew Derek loved. He rolled his whole body into his thrusts, and bared his neck, stroking a hand through the sweat-damp skin of his throat.

The sound of their rough, guttural breathing was loud in the taut silence of their bedroom, broken periodically by rumbling purrs from Derek’s throat. Stiles’ thighs started to burn from the exertion, so he reached for his cock, fisting it quickly with fingers still wet from the lube. Derek braced himself better and took over most of the work of moving, and started to spit curses. Stiles smiled weakly. Derek always developed a potty mouth right before he came. 

“Fuck, Stiles, yes,” Derek said, and Stiles’ worked his hand faster as Derek’s hips slammed up into him with erratic force. “Love you, I love--”

They came within a few seconds of each other, Stiles toppled forward onto Derek’s chest, unmindful of the mess he’d made between them. They traded lazy kisses for a while, their bodies still buzzing from the long wait and shattering release. Stiles rolled over to his own side of the bed, still breathing quicker than normal, a huge, involuntary smile on his face. He’d have to get up soon and get a washcloth, but that could wait. Right now, he wanted to bask in the glow of awesome sex, then tell his lover how much he cared about him, and how much he cherished their life together. 

A loud snore interrupted his internal post-coital sappiness. He looked over and Derek was out like a light.

**

Despite tiring themselves out rather successfully, they both woke up at 7AM. Between their own internal clocks and Eddie whining at the door to go out, they had little chance of sleeping in. That didn’t mean they couldn’t go _back_ to bed. 

They showered together, after, and Stiles gave Derek (mainly Derek’s ass) an incredibly thorough, extremely grateful scrub down, then kicked Derek out so that he could enjoy the hot water alone. When he came down to the kitchen, Derek had prepared them the most unhealthy breakfast they’d probably ever shared, complete with two kinds of pig, gratuitous carbs and not a single fruit in sight. Stiles felt pretty sick when he was finished, if he was honest with himself. 

While they recovered from their saturated fat coma in Stiles’ beloved breakfast nook, the clock on the stove ticked over to 8:36AM. It took Stiles a little while to notice that his fingers were tapping an impatient rhythm on the table. He sighed and leaned on his elbows, then grunted from the pressure on his full belly. 

On a normal day, he and Teddy (and Eddie) would be headed for the park, or if it was Derek’s morning to take them, he’d be sorting a load of clean laundry, fresh from the dryer, and putting all of Ted’s little T-shirts and miniature jeans into the dresser. It was probably Stiles’ favourite chore, because they stored Ted’s clothes in the space right between Derek’s and Stiles’ in the dresser. Seeing Teddy’s mix of bright coloured plaid and practical, soft fabrics made Stiles smile every time. It was like a visual metaphor of how Teddy fit into the lives of his parents.

God, Stiles missed him. He missed Ted’s stories, and the way he talked to himself while he played with his Lego. He missed the ridiculous happy dances they’d do when they’d gone to the toilet successfully. He missed the drawn out ritual of giving Ed a treat. (He’d tried it earlier, it wasn’t the same as when Teddy put out his hand and Eddie took the treat in his mouth as soft and gentle as the brush of a butterfly’s wings. Then, Eddie would crunch the treat up in a matter of seconds, and Teddy would howl with laughter. Sometimes literally.)

Stiles checked the clock again. 8:47. He sat back in the bench seat and caught Derek smirking at him across the table. Stiles gave another sigh, and said, “I suppose we’d better go and collect our son, hadn’t we?”

“Uh-huh,” Derek said, clearly not buying Stiles’ put-upon look. 

Stiles gave it up, and raced out the door. Eddie followed him out, and stood at the car door with a pleading expression on his doggy face. 

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Stiles said, as he opened the back door for him. “Let’s go get him.”

**

Eddie panted and fussed the whole way to Scott’s house. He obviously knew where they were going, and why, and was determined make sure they got there, so he helped by whining and sticking his head out the the window every time they turned a corner. Thankfully, it was a short trip to Scott and Kira’s.

Eddie burst out of the car like a pale yellow bullet and raced up to the door. The inner door was opened immediately, but the outer door, with it’s wide sheet of spotless glass, soon had two small faces pressed against it, making fishy lips and pig noses. When Stiles got to the door, he did his very best squishy face on the outside of the door, and was rewarded by peals of laughter from Ted and Natalie. Stiles was the undefeated king of this particular game, and he was proud to have defended his title. 

They finally made it in the house, and Stiles scooped Teddy up for a tight hug, burying his face into Ted’s neck and covering it with tickly kisses. Derek pressed in on the other side, and Eddie pranced around their feet, singing his happiness. Stiles and Derek spent a good couple of minutes simply holding him close and inhaling his sweet smell. Werewolf or no, Stiles still knew his son’s scent, and he’d missed it. 

Teddy eventually squirmed in their group hug and begged to be let down to greet Eddie. They set him free and if Stiles was blinking a little quicker than normal to make sure no happy tears fell, then he didn’t think anyone would blame him. 

Scott was still churning out waffles hot off the iron, and told them to help themselves, but both of them were too full to contemplate even a bit. They did consent to coffee, though, and they sat around the kitchen table with the McCalls, getting the play-by-play of the sleepover. 

Teddy had been completely fine. He’d played nicely with Natalie, like always. He’d been perfectly polite all through dinner, not abandoning his utensils once. Stiles had sent him with Pull-ups, just in case, but no accidents were had. 

Kira laughed at Stiles’ triumphant fist pump, and wrapped her hands around her mug of hot chocolate. “We were a little surprised when we woke up this morning with him in our bed, but he was a perfect gentleman the whole night, apparently. We didn’t even hear him come in.” 

Stiles cracked up at his son’s opportunistic streak, and relaxed into his seat, sipping his coffee and keeping an eye on Teddy, who was dressing Eddie up in Natalie’s doll’s clothes. Things were great. Better than they’d ever been before. 

**

Stiles had been sleeping very well in recent days, so it wasn’t surprising that the swim to consciousness took longer than it had before. Teddy was sitting up next to him, sobbing quietly and rubbing the tears out of his eyes. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Stiles croaked, disappointment flaring. It had been almost two full months since Teddy had woken up from a nightmare, and they’d been daring to hope that he’d moved past them. Derek clicked on the lamp on his side of the bed and let his eyes glow blue, to remind Teddy who he was with. 

“It was scary,” Teddy said, and a snot bubble popped on his upper lip. Stiles grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and held it up to Teddy’s nose.

“Blow.” Teddy blew, and emptied a seriously alarming amount of liquid into the tissue. Stiles tossed the tissue away while Derek gave Ted a kiss on the cheek. 

“What was scary?” Derek asked, putting his arm around Teddy and snuggling close. 

“Randall.” 

Derek looked to Stiles, a confused expression on his face. Stiles frowned. Teddy’s memories from the shelter were fuzzy, with very few names or details. He remembered the bars on his cage, and the insistent hands of the volunteers at the shelter, who did what they could to comfort a desolate “wolf-hybrid.” Other than Edward from the cage across from him, and Pam, the volunteer who’d looked after him the most, there wasn’t anyone Teddy had mentioned memories of. The only Randall Stiles knew of was…

“Randall from Monsters Inc?” 

Teddy hiccuped and nodded. “He was in the closet. He was gonna get me.”

Stiles almost laughed, his relief was so strong. A nightmare. A normal one, that all kids got, about a character in a movie who scared them. Not a memory of the prison Teddy had been trapped in for months. 

“Poor Teddy Bear,” Stiles said, and he threw back the covers. He walked to their closet and opened the door, moving the clothes to the side so that Teddy could see the back. “No monsters here. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Teddy said, and he wiped the last of his tears away on the blanket. Stiles was very glad he’d already taken care of the snot situation. 

“Don’t worry, baby bear,” Derek said when Stiles was back in bed and holding Teddy in his arms. “We’ll be like Sully, alright? You’ve got us to protect you.” 

“‘Kay, Daddy. Love you.” 

Derek turned out the light and pulled up the covers. The glow from the nightlight and Derek’s eyes set shadows dancing on the walls of their bedroom, but Teddy, his dog and his parents slept peacefully, safe from both monsters and memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! For this instalment, at least. There's a shorter 3rd instalment, then another longer one will start posting as soon as it's edited (Stiles and Derek decide they want to add to their little family!)
> 
> If you want to be notified when those fics are up, don't forget to subscribe to the series...or to my AO3 page, since I'm SO close to 100 followers! This might seem like a small number to lots of people, but it means so much to me, so if you like what I do, subscribe!
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who's read this and left comments and kudos. It means so much to me. Thanks also to my beta [SylvieW](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieW) who came up with the idea of Teddy in the first place. You're wonderful!


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